


Rebel Love Song

by sourwulfur



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angels, Crossover, Demons, Hunter!Stiles, M/M, Possession, WIP, idek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-23 02:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourwulfur/pseuds/sourwulfur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski, the nephew of Sam and Dean Winchester, is back in Beacon Hills for the first time in over ten years. He meets Derek Hale; everything wants them apart. Demons and angels will find their way to Beacon Hills, and nothing will be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is originally posted over on FF.net, but I thought I'd add it here. It's a WIP right now, but I'm having fun with mixing together my two favorite fandoms.

Beacon Hills was abuzz. There was a new family moving in. Well, new was fairly relative seeing as one of the members of the family was actually born in Beacon Hills and moved away when he was about five years old. Stiles Stilinski was back in Beacon Hills, not because he wanted to be; but, because it was his father's last wish. The man had hoped for his son to return home after his passing. So, the sixteen (almost _seventeen_ , he stressed) year old moved back to town with his new guardians; his uncles, Sam and Dean Winchester. Stiles was not sure what he thought about being back home. He only had vague memories of the place, and none of them were good. The teen frowned faintly as he was dropped off at the school so that he could finish up his registration before classes.

He tried to ignore the stares he got as he went, though one particular group made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. There was a tall, sporty looking guy with his arm draped over a slightly shorter guy's shoulders (whom Stiles heard was named Issac), another boy with curly hair practically glued to a pretty brunette girl's side (and she looked vaguely familiar), and a teen that was either Hawaiian or had family that was that was showing a redhead something in a magazine (or he had before before they spotted Stiles). Really, was it that odd to get a new student in Beacon Hills? Of course, Stiles mentally snorted at that thought. Of course it was. The town was like a speck on the map. It was the town they usually passed through; but, it had been his dad's wish. Damn it.

"D'you know who that is?" Stiles heard someone ask as he walked into the office, closing the door behind him to muffle the conversations that followed him. He _really_ hated being the new kid. It was his junior year of high school. He should have been used to it by then; but, he wasn't. "Uhm, I'm here to sign some papers and get my schedule."

"Ah, yes, you must be Stiles," the school principal, Mr. Hogg. He smirked a little, gesturing for the teen to go into the other room of the office. "You don't mind that I call you 'Stiles', right? Your file did say that was what you preferred to be called."

Stiles shrugged a little, dropping down in one of the chairs. "That's fine."

"Good. Now, let's get started, and we can get you on your way."

 

* * *

 

"Everyone, this is our newest student, Stiles..." the teacher said, her brow lifting a little as she read the note. Then, the chemistry teacher smiled up at him and said, "Well, Stiles, why don't you introduce yourself to the class?"

The brown-eyed boy glanced around the room a little, spotting the odd students from the hall earlier among the different, unknown faces. Well, he vaguely recognized a few of them, probably from pre-school. "Ah, well, I'm Stiles Stilinski," there was a murmur of recognition at his last name and he shrugged a little. "Used to live here, moved away for a bit, now 'm back. There's not much to tell, really." Stiles shrugged again and went to the empty seat in the classroom, not missing one of the murmurs about the story in the newspaper talking about his father's death. Small towns. Got to love them. Not.

Stiles sank down in his seat with a heavy sigh as the teacher started to talk about covalent bonds. It was going to be a long day.

He was correct in that assumption, and by the time the day was done, Stiles just wanted to go home and sleep forever. Okay, so forever was a bit much, but sleep was a good idea. Maybe he could get a nap in before he had to finish helping unloading all the boxes. He absently toyed with his phone, sliding his thumb over the touch screen as he walked outside the school building, hoping that his uncle's Impala would be waiting, but it wasn't. Or, maybe it was. Stiles' brow lifted when he spotted it all the way across the parking lot, next to a black Camaro that he could see Dean checking out. The car's owner did not seem very pleased and was trying to keep calm. It seemed the curly haired kid from before (Scott McCall, Stiles believed) grabbing Mr. AngryFace's shoulder was the only thing keeping him from hitting Dean. Stiles sighed, rolled his eyes, and walked over to his uncle, grabbing the man's arm before tugging him away from the Camaro. "We've talked about this," Stiles said, leading Dean toward the Impala. "No commandeering other peoples' cars."

Stiles ignored Dean's protests and shoved the man into the driver's seat before starting around the car to climb into the passenger. He paused only for a moment as he glanced over to Scott and AngryFace, who did not seem so angry anymore. He actually was rather attractive and Stiles smiled faintly at him before climbing into the Impala. "Let's get out of here."

The drive to the house they had bought, located on the edge of town (far enough away that they could practice without alarming anyone, but close enough that if they _needed_ to walk to the store for something, they could), was filled with silence between the family members and _Bohemian Rhapsody_ on the radio. Stiles tapped his fingers on his leg in time with the music, lip synching the entire way while Dean had a faint smirk on his lips as he drove. "Oh, c'mon, Stiles, it was a killer car," Dean said. "And the guy was just fine with me helping with the flat."

"That's not an invitation to pop the hood, and you know it," Stiles replied with a roll of his eyes.

"So, change of subject. Apparently, there's been some really strange animal attacks in the area."

Stiles groaned and hit his head on the headrest as he lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "No." He did not even have to look at Dean to look at the appalled look on his uncle's face. "No. No researching, no looking, no case work, _no hunting_. You promised."

The elder of the two sighed as he turned into the driveway to their new place. "We can't just _ignore_ blatant signs of-"

"You can and you will. Can't I just have a _normal_ year and a half of high school before we fall into that shit again? I mean, the world is not going to end just because we take a sabbatical. There will still be things that go bump in the night after I graduate."

"Just one?"

"No."

"Please?"

Stiles groaned and got out of the car after Dean turned it off. "No. I thought _you_ were supposed to be the adult here."

The two of them made their way into the two-story farmhouse that the three family members, and the elder two's friend, Castiel, had bought. Cas and Dean shared a two bed, large bedroom while Sam and Stiles each had rooms of their own. It was a big place with three bathrooms, a living room, a huge kitchen and dining area, a utility room, and a wrap-around porch. There were many acres around the place, perfect for target practice; and, it was close to a magical hot spot, which Stiles planned on helping him learn a bit more. No hunting for the next two years; but, that did not mean they could not practice and learn. "What if a vampire shows up on the porch? What're we supposed to do then? Sit back and give it blood bags?" Dean questioned, ignoring Sam's questioning about what's going on.

"You're ridiculous," Stiles muttered to himself, shaking his head as he went up to the room that would be his. He had a bed and a desk set up, and many boxes littering the room. He had one poster tacked up onto his wall, but other than that, it was still bare. "I'm going for a run!"

 

* * *

 

Stiles breathed heavily as he ran, listening to some good music to get his energy going. He exhaled with each step, keeping his eyes darting from the overgrown path he was following to straight ahead of him so that he would not trip on anything. He had ran two miles, and he slowly came to a stop, breathing heavily as he took his earphones out, doubling over slightly while focusing on breathing. He reached into the small sports bag he had on his back to grab the water bottle he had there and took a drink with a glance to his right after seeing something out of the corner of his eye. The teen turned to fully look when he realize it was AngryFace from before.

The man seemed to be studying him with interest. Stiles could easily tell that the man was tense, even from that distance. "What're you doing out here?" the guy asked, his voice having a sharp edge to it.

Even his voice was hot. Okay, maybe it had been too long since Stiles had found someone attractive. He had spent most of his time with his uncles lately. Stiles jerked his thumb back the way he came. "Running," was his breathless answer.

"This is private property."

"Oh, sorry..." Stiles shrugged a little. There were no signs posted anywhere. How was he to know? "Should post a sign or somethin'." He took another drink out of his water bottle and the other man turned to leave, only to stop when the brown-eyed teen called out, "I'm Stiles."

The other man turned to look at the boy once again, studying Stiles for a moment before saying, "Derek."

Stiles watched as the man, Derek, turned to leave once again, and actually did so that time. The teen just stood there for a moment longer before smiling and starting to run back for home, careful of any branches or underbrush that might try to pick him up. Maybe transferring to the sleepy town of Beacon Hills would not be as bad as he had thought.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance meeting, a conversation, a date... Stiles is going to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the follows and favorites on the first chapter. I'm glad you like it. I'm having a lot of fun. Enjoy the new chapter. For your reference, this one takes place a few weeks after the first chapter.

Stiles paused, closing his eyes as he panted softly. It was hot in his red hoodie from the sun and running around. He smirked, fingers itching to pull the trigger beneath them, and he quickly spun around, lifting the gun to shoot Dean in the middle of his chest with the stream of water. "I win," stile said, smug as he lowered the plastic toy weapon. "You breathe too hard, Uncle Dean."

"Shut up," grumbled the elder man, wiping off his face before waving a hand dismissively. "Don't you have homework?"

"It's Friday," Stiles answered simply, shrugging a little as he stretched his sore muscles. He bent over to grab his ankles and stretch a bit, the hood of his red jacket falling over his head.

"Should go to a party or something, then."

Stiles simply raised a brow. He still did not really know anyone in town. They were not exactly the most accepting bunch. Then again, it was not every day someone came in and stole the valedictorian position from the most popular girl at school after only a few weeks. It wasn't like he did it on purpose.

Stiles did end up going into town to get pizza for them (Sam paid), and after eating, he went on another run. He was aching from all the practice he had been getting in since he had nothing else to do; but, it wouldn't really pass if he didn't keep going. He slowed to a stop when he heard a distant but loud (thank you, trees for creating an echo) voices somewhere nearby. "You met the new kid, yet?" the first voice said. Stiles was pretty sure it was that Scott guy from school.

"Stiles, yeah. He was on the property," replied Mr. AngryFace... Derek. His name was Derek. In all honesty, Stiles was surprised he remembered. He was typically _terrible_ with remembering names.

"D'you think he knows?" There was silence that Stiles interpreted as Derek making some kind of expression that Scott understood. "The dude speaks _Latin_ and there's just something off about him."

Derek sighed and said, "Shut up, Scott." Stiles was fairly sure he heard a whine in response. "Go home. I'll take the watch alone." Stiles assumed Scott ran off because there was no arguing, but a few moments later, Derek appeared in the clearing next to him. "You've not mastered stealth yet, have you?" Derek said, seeming more amused than anything. "You're lucky that Scott's oblivious when it doesn't pertain to Allison."

"How...?" Stiles started to question, brow furrowing when Derek just grinned.

"C'mon, little hunter, surely my little band of misfits made it _obvious_ to you," replied Derek, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. "I would have thought that being trained by the _Winchesters_ you'd be faster on the uptake than them."

Animal attacks. Jackson and Scott at lacrosse. Jackson somehow _knowing_ someone was hitting on Isaac from across the _noisy_ cafeteria. Scott's anger. Stiles was sure he saw _glowing eyes_ at one point. "Lycanthropy," Stiles stated with an amused laugh. He was surprised his uncles were not searching in to the whole animal attacks thing more. Or maybe they were and were just hiding that. Something about that thought made him want to frown, however he did not. Instead, he just smirked a little, reaching up to scratch the side of his head underneath the red hood still covering it. "Shouldn't you, y'know, be hiding this from me?"

"You're not a threat." Derek smirked in response to the indignant sound Stiles made in response. "If you and your guardians were here to hunt us, you'd have done something by now."

"Yeah, well, they don't _know_ ," replied Stiles, "and I'd like to finish up high school without killing someone else." Plus, Stiles was not one who believed they should kill any and all supernatural beings simply because they were not fully human. Most of them were _still_ partially human, and did not hurt anyone. From what Stiles could see, this band of lycans was not a threat to anyone. The animal attacks had died off after the town's sheriff had found a _dead wolf_ in the woods.

"You're not afraid of us." It was not a question, but a statement, as he stepped toward Stiles. Derek searched for any signs of fear as he moved forward, but there were not any.

Stiles stood his ground, smirking a little as Derek stopped only a step away from him. "If you were going to do something, you would have done it by now."

"Didn't anyone teach you it's not wise to taunt an alpha?"

"Didn't anyone teach you it's not wise to threaten a hunter? They may do something rash."

Stiles' breath caught in his throat and his heart stuttered as Derek stepped into his personal space so they were inches apart. Derek knew the falter was not because of who he was, but more to do with the fact that Derek was all but in his face. Being that close to someone made practically everyone falter. "Will you?"

Stiles was completely confused. There he was in the woods, talking to an _alpha_ about being a werewolf and hunter as if they were discussing the weather over tea. He knew that he should want to destroy Derek or something (Dean would want him to), but he didn't. If anything, he wanted to know more about the mostly quiet man with devastatingly amazing looks. He tried to force himself to say 'yes' in response to the question, but what he ended up saying was, "Let's get food... together. Tomorrow night."

The teen knew nothing about Derek, other than his name and that he was a wolf of there 'were' variety. He wanted to know more, and something was telling him it was the right thing to do. What was he getting himself into?

"It's a date," Derek replied, and then he was leaving.

 

* * *

 

"So, let me get this straight," Dean said with an incredulous expression contorting his features. "You're going on a date... with a guy you barely know?" Stiles did not answer, pulling his t-shirt (complete with a _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ picture and quote) on, and Dean turned to Sam, who was checking his e-mails on his phone while leaning against the wall. "And you're okay with this?"

"He's almost seventeen, Dean," replied Sam with a shrug. "At his age, you were far from virginal, so you've no room to talk."

Dean glared at his brother, crossing his arms over his chest. "You _are_ a virgin, right, Stiles?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, tugging on a plaid button down shirt that went with his t-shirt (color wise), and left it open. "Yes, and I'm not about to just give it to some guy I just met," Stiles replied. Okay, so in Derek's case, it was a lie. The guy was hot, and Stiles could not deny the fact that he would probably be an easy lay for the guy, if that was what he wanted. The thought alone had Stiles shuddering a bit with a faint smirk.

"How do you even know this guy, Stiles? Does he go to school with you?"

The teen bit back laughter at that question. How could he answer _that_? 'Yeah, no, I just met him on the run in the woods'? Stiles was unsure why Dean thought Derek was in school with him, but then, he remembered that Dean had met the guy that first day at school. "It's not exactly a big town," Sam pointed out the obvious, saving Stiles from answering. "Is he picking you up, or...?"

The question was halted by Cas interrupting with, "Someone's here." Stiles had not been aware that Castiel was there, but he was so used to the guy randomly showing up that it did not startle him anymore.

Then, there was a knock on the door. "I've got it. You guys don't have too much fun without me," Stiles stated as he hurried downstairs to answer the door (managing to not trip on his shoelaces on the way, really). "Hey, Derek. Let's go."

Derek nodded, brow furrowing a little at the extremely _odd_ feeling that came from the house (unknowingly coming from Cas). He did not comment, though, as they went to Derek's car. Oddly enough, the silence between them was not awkward as Derek drove. They did not really start talking until they were seated in a back corner of the twenty-four hour diner in town and had placed their orders. "Why did you leave Beacon Hills?" Derek questioned, watching as Stiles added sugar to his own coffee cup, bouncing his knee absentmindedly.

"My mother was killed by a vampire, trying to save me. Her half-brothers, Sam and Dean, were visiting as it was. They knew what had happened, and proved to my dad that I was not lying about what I had seen. He had thought I was nuts at first, because, c'mon... vampires? Dad swore vengence on all supernatural beings, and my uncles offered to train him, and me. So, Dad and I packed up and left with them," Stiles explained, toying with his unused straw that sat on the table. "We never stayed one place too long. A demon killed him after possessing him for weeks. We tried to save him, but... The demon ended up getting away, and we came here." It _killed_ Stiles that they still did not know exactly what the demon had wanted.

"Demons?" questioned Derek, his brows lifting as that fact was the one he vocally latched on to. He rested a hand on Stiles' wrist, thumb absently brushing over the teen's skin in a soothing manner. He knew what it was like to lose family. He also knew how just because it was talked about did not mean the person wanted comments. If it was surrounded by other things, it was best to press past it.

Stiles nodded, using his free hand to lift his coffee cup in order to take a drink. "Demons and angels exist. One lives with us, an angel, I mean. Castiel."

"An angel? Why?"

The teen shrugged a little with an amused grin. "I think he's got a thing for Dean, even though he's not supposed to."

"Do they know about me...?"

"Being hairy, pointy teeth, anger issue with an affliction toward the moon, all _rawr_ and stuff?" Stiles continued as Derek trailed off with a soft laugh, smiling a bit to himself as he saw the faintest of smiles tugging on the man's lips. "Are you kidding? They'd _kill_ you. They're more shoot first, ask later. Cas might know, though; but, he's not said anything." Which Stiles was thankful for. He really did not want his relationship destroyed before it even started.

Maybe it should have been more odd that he was sitting there, thinking about thinking a _relationship_ with a _werewolf_. But, really, the thought made him smile a little. He was not sure what it was about Derek, but there was _something_ he was just drawn to. Stiles wondered if things were that way for his parents.

"They can't kill me that easy," Derek said with a smirk.

Stiles smirked a little as well, sinking down in his seat slightly. "Two Winchesters against an alpha? Hmm... I still think my money'd be on them."

Derek's eyes narrowed a bit, though there was an amused smirk on his face as Stiles nudged his foot under the table. "Mmm... maybe, but I'd have a reason to win, wouldn't I? Would just have to prove you wrong, if only to wipe that smirk off your face."

The teen opened his mouth to reply (with a suggestive comment of other ways to do just that), but closed it again as the waitress in the too-tight dress showing too much cleavage sat their orders down in front of them. Stiles and Derek each just looked at the plates before Derek released Stiles' wrist so that he could switch them so that the right order was in front of the right person. "Oh, oops," the waitress said, tucking her badly dyed hair behind an ear. "Anything else I can get you?"

Her eyes were trained on Derek as she spoke, but Stiles was the one who answered, "More coffee would be _great_ , thanks."

Stiles grinned as Derek nodded in agreement, and she shot Stiles a look before going off. "So, you know about my family. Tell me about yours," Stiles said, adding salt and pepper to his food.

Derek seemed to contemplate it as he took a drink of his own coffee. "It's just my uncle and I left, plus my pack. They're more family to me than he is, though. My family died in a fire," Derek explained with a nod. It still hurt to think about, and he missed his family greatly. However, he found that talking to Stiles (even about things like the fire, which he never spoke about) was easy. He did not feel judged or pitied. He just felt calm, comfortable, and _understood_. That was something new.

"A hunter did it," Stiles commented softly, nodding a little. He knew the story well. It was used as training of what _not_ to do. While hunters were all for the destruction of the supernatural beasts, there were _humans_ in that fire. The situation could have been handled better. Plus, the family that did it was _supposed_ to follow the same type of thought that Stiles had; if they did not hurt anyone, then why did they need to be hunted. "I met her once. I didn't like her." Stiles frowned a bit, toying with his food more than eating it until Derek nudged him under the table.

"Should eat," Derek commented. "Or we'll get half way through the movie and you'll complain about being hungry."

"Dude, it's like you _know_ me." Both of them laughed softly and smiled as Stiles shifted in his seat again, unable to sit still, and they fell into a companionable silence with a few comments here and there as they ate.

 

* * *

 

"No, but seriously, I can't believe so many people enjoy _Twilight_ ," Stiles commented as he and Derek stopped on the front porch. "It's just a terrible story."

"The best part is that the actors hate it so much," said the elder of the two with an amused grin (faint, but still there).

Stiles nodded in agreement and put his hands into his red hoodie pockets, smiling at Derek. "So, I actually had fun tonight."

Derek lifted an eyebrow slightly as he replied, "Don't sound so surprised." He smirked a bit when Stiles nudged him with an elbow. "Next Friday?"

"Is that your way of asking me out again? Because if it is, you should learn to use more words," Stiles said, pulling a hand out of his pocket absentmindedly to start gesturing with it as he spoke. "I could interpret that as anything. I mean, next Friday is a test in my history class, so you could be talking about that. Or the fact that next Friday is that fall festival thing in town. Or the fact that Friday even _exists_ is a fa-"

Stiles would have continued rambling if Derek had let him, but he was effectively cut off as the werewolf stepped in and kissed him. It was nothing major. There were no fireworks like in the movies. It was simple, just Derek's lips pressing against his own, but it felt nice; and, when Derek pulled back, Stiles found he wanted to. "Yeah, okay, Friday," the teen said with a soft laugh.

He was not one-hundred percent sure what was going on between himself and wolfman, but Derek wanted to go out with him again. That in itself was a new thing. Typically, if he actually managed one date, it never went past that. Stiles had really had a lot of fun that evening, and despite everything, he really enjoyed Derek's company.

Derek didn't say anything in response. He just nodded a little and gave Stiles a faint smile before walking back to his car. Stiles stood there for a moment before laughing softly and going inside. Once there, he leaned back against the door, letting his head fall against it. He was going to hell, the darkest pits of it. He was supposed to want to kill Derek, not kiss him. Yet, that was all Stiles wanted to do. "How was the date?" Sam questioned as he came into the hall, smirking a little at the smile on his nephew's face. "I'd say by the smile it was good."

"Yeah," Stiles replied with a laugh, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "Went to the movies and got some food. He wants to go out again. Think I'm going to head to bed, though."

Sam nodded a little. "Okay, kid. Making breakfast in the morning."

Stiles nodded at the information and smiled before locking the front door and heading upstairs to his bedroom, still filled with boxes. He sighed and collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He lay there for a long while, just thinking about Derek and everything else that was going on. "Yep, 'm going to hell," he mumbled to himself as he rolled over onto his side, falling asleep in his clothes.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, whatcha think? Any thoughts? No... okay then. *Leaves cookies for all*


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of the date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who have given this story a chance. :) Hope you guys have had a great holiday season!

Stiles' dreams that night were filled with red eyes, sounds of hunters he did not know, Dean and Sam yelling at him, and Castiel looking at him knowingly. When he got up the next morning, he felt pretty low sitting at the kitchen table. He was going against everything he was ever taught, betraying his family, all for a pretty face. Okay, so Derek was more than just a pretty face, but still. He should not want to keep the whole thing a secret, to want to do what he knew his family would hate. He sighed softly and hid his face in his pillow, continuing to lay there until he heard Dean shout up the stairs that he needed to get his "pale, scrawny ass" downstairs for breakfast.

With a roll of his eyes, Stiles got up, changing for the day before actually heading to the kitchen. He arched a brow when he saw Castiel sitting at the table, staring curiously at a glass of orange juice sitting on the table in front of him. "What's with him?" the teen questioned, getting himself a glass of milk to add some strawberry and chocolate syrup to it.

"He's trying to decide what he thinks of the juice," explained with a shrug as they all sat at the table.

The conversation was light-hearted and typical for their meals. It made Stiles miss Bobby, who was across the country doing something or other. Stiles was pretty sure he was looking for Crowley, but he was not supposed to think on things like that. _Normal_ teenage angst for at least the next year. Then again, there was nothing normal about having to fear your relatives killing the guy you were dating just because he existed. Yeah, so, _normal_ would never describe Stiles' life.

As usual, Stiles' weekend was filled with homework, helping Dean work on the Impala, and training. Even if they were not hunting, there was no reason to not train. If they did not train, they would let their guard down too much; or, by the time their skills were _needed_ , they would be useless.

Monday morning, Stiles drove himself to school in an old jeep that his uncles got for him so that they would not have to drive him to and from school every day. When he got there, Stiles smirked to himself a little, seeing Derek standing next to his Camaro as Scott and some others (Stiles _thought_ their names were Issac, Boyd, Erica, Lydia, and Jackson; but, he could have easily been wrong) somehow all file out of the tiny car. Really, Stiles had no idea how they fit in there, but did not dwell on that too much as he went over to Derek. "S'cute," he commented with an amused smirk. "You're like the daddy to a bunch of misfits. Maybe you should invest in a minivan."

Derek glared at Stiles, and the teen just grinned, nudging Derek with his elbow. "S'a good look for you," Stiles continued with an amused smirk, glancing toward the school as the bell rang. He then handed Derek a slip of paper that the man hadn't noticed in his hand and smiled before heading into the building.

The teen did not look back, and Derek just stood there for a moment before looking at the paper, reading an unfamiliar, hurried handwriting that said, ' _Here's my number, Sourwolf. Use it._ ' Derek smirked a little, absentmindedly brushing his thumb along the jagged words while glancing back up at the building. A hunter. A part of Derek knew that he should be more wary. Stiles was a hunter, relative to the most famous hunters _ever_. Stiles was _different_ , though. There was a trust there that the man could not quite explain, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't scare him. He was not going to show that, however, and he got back in his car to leave campus before someone called about some creepy guy lingering in the parking lot.

Stiles hummed faintly to himself as he went to his first class. He did not miss the odd look that the lot that had climbed out of Derek's car had given him. Scott was the first one to speak up, and he said, "How do you know Derek?"

"It's not exactly a big town," Stiles mimicked his uncle, rolling his shoulder in a shrug, smirking a little as a text came in, ignoring the flat out _glare_ Erica gave him.

"You're who he was with Friday," she said with a sneer. Obviously, she did not like that idea at all, but Stiles did not care. If he was going to worry about anyone's approval, it would be his uncles'. That, though, was so unlikely that it made Stiles frown a little.

Reading the text he got at that moment, however, changed the frown into a faint smile. The message was nothing big, just a simple comment about Stiles coming across as being the creeper.

_Admitting that you are, now? ;)_

He sent the text after saving Derek's number in his phone, leaving it as 'Derek'. He wanted to label the guy as 'Sourwolf', but if either of his uncles got into his phone and saw that, he would be screwed. So, a simple name would be what worked. "He's been through a lot," Allison said after a moment, knowing that nobody else would say what they wanted to. So, she took the opportunity to say it for them. "Don't hurt him or we'll hurt you."

"Look, I know you lot don't know me, but hurting Derek is not on my to-do list, okay?" Stiles stated as he turned in his seat to better face the others while the entire class waited for their teacher. "I happen to really like the guy, even if he looks like he's constantly in a terrible mood. He's... I dunno, but, look, if it makes you feel better, I promise that you can maul me to your little wolfy contentment if I hurt him." He grinned a little at the look of shock that crossed their features. Obviously, Derek had not let them in on the fact that he knew what they were. Oops. Oh well.

The rest of the day was spent dodging questions from Derek's pack, trying to focus on his classes, and reading over a book on runes he had found in the library. Really, who put things like that in a school library? It was asking for trouble. Of course, the chance of someone really picking it out was rare. If the dust that had been on it was anything to go by, nobody had touched it since it was put on the shelf. He also found a bestiary in the fiction section. A smirk had formed on his face as he picked it out. If only the silly people of the town knew.

That evening, Stiles sat at the kitchen table, pouring over the bestiaries that he and his uncles had gathered over the years, including the journal that Sam and Dean's father had kept. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he read about the differences between a windigo, werewolves, shape shifters, and the _loup garou_. While the werewolves were basically just like the _loup garou_ , what Stiles learned was the later were typically _born_ and had control over their turning, though not in the way that the shape shifters did. The windigos were basically the same thing as the traditional werewolves that had no control over their turning with the moon and their hunger for flesh. _Loup garou_ could be made, by a bite from an alpha but they were definitely more like what one would consider a lycanthrope, one that turns but still has control over the animal side, whether it's from birth or with learning.

"Huh," Stiles said to himself, absently running a hand through his hair before looking over the table toward Sam. "There's so many fine lines between different creatures, aren't there? S'just, kinda hard to tell sometimes."

Sam nodded a little as he flipped through the bestiary that Stiles had brought home. "Makes our job difficult sometimes. Because what works for one creature of a type might not work for a similar yet different one," Sam replied. "Salt or mountain ash are always good fall backs, though. They're a general good thing; and wolvesbane or vervain. Though vervain is more for vampires."

Stiles nodded a little, absently bouncing his knee as he read, ignoring the way that Dean was all pouty at the kitchen island behind him. Dean, apparently, did not like that Stiles and Sam could spend time researching and studying while they could not hunt. There was nothing wrong with staying knowledgeable, though. Stiles still would rather get through his senior year without any actual hunting, especially since the guy he was dating was someone that they would hunt. The thought made Stiles' stomach twist and he pulled out his phone before texting Derek.

_Whatcha up to?_

The teen then set his phone aside, focusing on the book in front of him again as Dean grumbled about ordering Chinese takeout. "Sweet and sour chicken for me, please!" Stiles called, grabbing his phone when it vibrated on top of the table, a small smile forming on his face.

_Training. Scott dislocated Jackson's shoulder._

Stiles laughed softly and shook his head a little. He could practically hear the pride in Derek's tone even through the text.

_Congrats to Scott. Your pups are awfully protective of you._

_Yeah, I know. Still on for Friday?_

_Couldn't get rid of me if you tried. ;)_

"That guy from the other night?" Sam questioned, nodding toward Stiles' phone, chuckling a little as Stiles quickly shoved the phone into his hoodie pocket. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. So, are you going to introduce us to him?"

"Uh, yeah, maybe... if this becomes more of a thing," answered Stiles with a shrug, though internally, he was screaming _NO!_ While smiling at Sam. "We're going on a second date, but, y'know. Nothing could still happen."

"Anyone know where Cas is?" sighed Dean as he came back into the room. "`Ve been calling for him, but he won't come back."

Stiles pushed himself away from the table, making sure his phone and keys were in his hoodie pocket as he said, "I'll go look for him. Wanna go for a walk anyway. I'll be back soon."

The teen had no doubt that Castiel was somewhere around town. The angel would not go too far from Dean without letting them all know. It was kind of cute, in an odd way. Stiles smiled faintly to himself as he started to walk, looking around for the angel of the lord that had become a permanent fixture in his life. "Cas!" he called, his breath spiraling out in front of him, making his brow furrow a little. It was oddly cold in California that year. "Castiel!"

It did not take too long before Stiles found Cas. He was sitting on the ground in front of a cat that was sitting on a low laying wall along someone's driveway. The angel's brow was furrowed in concentration while Scott and Issac were watching him in confusion. "Is he yours?" Issac asked Stiles as the teen approached Castiel. It was unnerving to the werewolves. They could see Castiel plainly, but the guy gave off no scent. He did not even smell like anyone else beyond the coat that gave off a distinctly masculine smell that did not really seem to go with the man having a staring contest with a cat.

"Yeah," replied Stiles with an eye roll. "`Ey! Cas! Dean's been calling for you. Snap out of it."

"Shh..." Castiel insisted, holding a hand out to Stiles in a gesture to stay quiet. "I've almost broken him."

Stiles groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Castiel, cats are more stubborn than me. You're not going to find out what it is you want to know from him."

"But, I've almost..."

"No. Dean got us Chinese." Stiles reached out and grabbed Castiel's arm, tugging on it a little to get the angel to stand, but then he fell backward as Cas suddenly just vanished.

He braced himself to hit the ground as Issac and Scott both growled and tensed at the sudden disappearance of the man that had been sitting in Scott's yard; but, the impact never came. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Derek, whose brow was lifted in amusement as he held the teen up off the ground. "Great reflexes, Little Red," he commented with an amused smirk, tugging on the red hood on Stiles' jacket as he straightened the teen up again.

They both ignored Scott and Issac's questions about Cas as Stiles shrugged and said, "Well, we can't always predict what an angel's going to do. They're worse than me, and I've been told I'm too unpredictable sometimes. It's rash and blahblahblah."

"An angel, what?" questioned Scott, getting a bit growly at the fact he was being ignored.

Stiles sighed and nodded a little, absentmindedly rubbing a hand through his hair. "Uh, yeah. Demons and angels exist," he explained with a shrug before looking back to Derek. "Should probably head back home. Dean ordered us Chinese, and someone will eat all mine if 'm not there to defend it." That someone being Dean, himself. "See you?"

Derek nodded a little with a faint sound of acknowledgment, and Stiles paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should take the opportunity to steal another kiss. He started to just walked off, but stopped instead and grabbed the front of Derek's jacket to tug the guy into a kiss. He smiled slightly when Derek's hands rested on his hips, but the elder man did not push him away any. Stiles laughed softly as he broke the kiss, flicking Derek's chest lightly. "See ya Friday, Sourwolf," the teen stated before letting go of the werewolf's shirt to actually walk toward home.

The alpha looked toward Issac and Scott once Stiles had disappeared, and he arched a brow silently before Scott said, "What the hell was that? You're just... you're seeing the new guy? Do you even know anything about him?"

"I know a hell of a lot more than you do," Derek countered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now, what did you call me over here for?"

"Yeah... alright..." Scott sighed and nodded a little. He was not sure what it was, but something seemed a bit odd about the new kid. Sure, Stiles seemed nice enough, but there was also a harshness there that could only be explained by years of darkness. "There's a... _something_ in the woods. None of us know what it is. Lydia says it looked like black smoke."


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dinner with the Winchesters, and Chris Argent sheds some light on the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read or left kudos or commented so far! Love you all. :)

Stiles hummed softly to himself, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the edge of his laptop as his iPod finished synching the new songs onto it. He was planning on going for a run and doing a bit of training in the training field they had hidden out in the woods behind their house. It was Thursday, after school. Most people were at sports practices or club meetings; but, Stiles was not one for school spirit. He had only been there a few weeks, after all. They were getting close to Halloween, something that made Stiles smirk a bit. It was his favorite holiday. Kids and adults dressing up as the things that go bump in the night without even knowing they _really_ exist? It was a playground for the supernatural; and, it was a hunter's easiest night.

 

Once the music player was done, Stiles grabbed the holster he generally wore under a jacket and shrugged it on, making sure that the handgun in it had the safety on and the knife in the other side was sheathed right. The _last_ thing he needed was to get injured while training. Dean would never let him live it down. At least Cas could heal him if it was serious. Stiles then turned on the iPod and locked the keys, shoving it into his back pocket. His earbuds went in then, and the teen made his way outside.

 

Target practice, first, and once he had successfully got all targets in one go, he put the gun up. He stilled, though, and tensed a little, sensing someone or _something_ behind him. Stiles slowly reached over to grab the knife out of his holster and removed it without making any sudden movements. The teen spun around just in time to bring the blade to his attacker's neck as he was tackled to the ground. He grunted as he landed, and Derek smirked down at him as the man said, “You hesitated.”

 

“Of course I hesitated,” replied Stiles with a laugh as he lowered the blade, dropping it aside. “It was _you_ , and killing you is really not on the agenda, y'know.”

 

“Maybe for you.”

 

Derek arched a brow and the teen rolled his eyes before tugging the man down in order to kiss him firmly. Stiles had been training with Derek almost every day that week, even joining in with the pack the day before. It had been awkward at first, but the moment that Isaac had declared he liked Stiles, that was basically the end of that. Stiles and Scott had bonded over some video game that Derek could care less about. He was just glad that Stiles got along well with the pack. He was still cautious, never letting Stiles anywhere near the pack home; but, nobody really blamed him. A part of him knew that even Stiles would not blame him if he knew the full story behind _Kate_.

 

“You're heavy,” Stiles mumbled, half-heartedly pushing on Derek’s chest after a few moments, but Derek didn't budge. He laughed softly and smirked a little. “You're distracting me. Go play with your pups.”

 

“I'd rather talk to you,” replied Derek, making Stiles fall silent for a few moments.

 

The teen laughed softly and smiled, leaning up enough to steal another kiss from the elder male. “Okay, so talk,” replied Stiles, smiling softly.

 

Derek started to reply, only he tensed a little and glanced over his shoulder, making Stiles lean up enough to do the same, and they saw Sam standing there, arms crossed over his chest with a raised brow. “Uh... hi?” Stiles said with a soft, awkward laugh, ruffling his hair a little as Derek moved so he was no longer on top of the teen.

 

“You must be Derek,” Sam said as the other two got up and Stiles grabbed his knife to put back in the holster. “Should join us for dinner, it's just now done.”

 

Derek glanced at Stiles, who smiled slightly, and then agreed to stay, which made Sam nod and head back to the house, telling them to come on. “They're going to test you,” Stiles informed Derek as they slowly started to follow after. “There's a line of salt along the door frame, we'll have silver utensils, and they'll slip some holy water into your drink.”

 

“They take no chances, do they?” Derek replied with an amused smirk, knowing none of those things would affect him, luckily. The last thing they needed was the Winchesters trying to kill him.

 

Stiles shook his head a little, smirking as well. “`M their only nephew. It comes with the territory.” He shrugged slightly and smiled as Derek took his hand just before they went into the house, stepping over the threshold and over the line of salt that was practically unnoticeable. If Derek had not been told it would be there, he never would have noticed.

 

“Who's this?” questioned Dean as the two of them entered the kitchen. He recognized the man with Stiles as being the owner of the awesome Camaro, and he knew that Derek was the guy that Stiles was seeing, but since he had not been officially introduced, he felt the need to ask.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes and started to help Sam set the table. “Dean, Sam, this is Derek,” Stiles introduced, smiling over at the alpha, both of them finding great amusement in the fact that neither of the brothers had any idea.

 

Dean let out a soft sound of acknowledgment with a nod, looking Derek up and down. “So, what exactly are your intentions with Stiles?”

 

“Dean!” Stiles groaned and set a glass down at the places he was setting for himself and Derek. “We're not having this discussion.”

 

“I like spending time with him,” Derek answered with a shrug and a faint smile as Stiles looked over at him. “My _intentions_ are to continue to enjoy spending time with him and to get to know him more.”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes fondly, but could not keep from smiling as they all sat down, despite Dean's look of disbelief. Sam mimicked Stiles' eye rolling and fixed a pointed look on his brother as he said, “You're not exactly Mr. Innocent yourself, Dean. Give them a break. Where's Cas?”

 

“Probably interrogating the neighbor's cat again,” answered Stiles with a shrug only to jump when Castiel suddenly appeared at his side, giving him some juice to have with his food. “Jeeze. Cas, warning?”

 

“Where did he come from?” Derek asked, arching a brow. He knew that Stiles had said that he had lived with an angel, and he had pretty much figured out that the weird guy who had been having a staring contest with the cat outside the McCalls' was the angel that Stiles had mentioned. However, he was supposedly unaware of that stuff, and was supposed to believe that Stiles' uncles worked for the government or something.

 

Dean and Sam stumbled over making up some excuse while Castiel calmly responded, “I was making juice.” Everyone looked from Castiel to the orange juice he had poured into each of their glasses while the angel took a seat next to dean. “What is wrong? Do you not like it?”

 

“No, Cas, it's great,” replied Stiles with a soft laugh and a smile.

 

As they ate, Sam and Dean asked Derek some questions that Stiles already knew the answer to. He lived in house across town (though Stiles had never been there, which had to be clarified, apparently), he worked part time even though he did not have to for a long while with the inheritance and insurance money building in a trust fund and he was taking online classes to continue his education. Dean was impressed of Derek’s knowledge of cars. Sam was impressed that he was taking the time to go to school. Stiles was impressed that neither of them had any clue that they were sharing a table with a werewolf.

 

Dinner was filled with light conversation, and once they were finished, the dishes done by Derek and Stiles, the younger of the two walked with Derek out to the Camaro outside. Stiles had not even stopped to think about how Derek had gotten there earlier. He guessed the guy showed up while Sam and Dean had been in town still. Stiles leaned against the car, Derek’s hands resting on his hips while standing close, and he said, “So, that wasn't completely terrible. It was a bit awkward, but eh... You should stop taunting them, though. They're going to figure it out.”

 

“Could have been worse,” Derek commented, smirking a little as he gently squeezed Stiles hips.

 

The teen poked Derek’s chest harshly at the avoidance of not taunting Sam and Dean, but smiled in amusement. “You're terrible,” he replied, shaking his head a little. He rolled his eyes a little a moment later as Derek’s gaze went over his shoulder back toward the house. “One of them is looking out the window, right?”

 

“Dean.” Derek nodded a little, smirking slightly to himself when the mentioned man realized that his not-so-subtle watching spot had been discovered and he moved away from the window. Derek then looked back to Stiles. “I should go. Pack stuff.”

 

Stiles nodded a little, but did not let Derek pull away any, not that Stiles could have _really_ stopped the guy if Derek had honestly wanted to move. “Tomorrow. Pick me up at seven.”

 

“Demanding.”

 

“You like it.” Stiles grinned as Derek leaned in to kiss him firmly instead of speaking, the teen absently grabbing a hold of the front of Derek’s shirt.

 

Stiles sighed contentedly into the lingering kiss as it deepened slightly, though neither one pushed it to be farther than that. It was nice, and Stiles got great pleasure out of the fact he knew at least Dean was inside freaking out. Derek chuckled at something, glancing toward the house, as the kiss broke before smirking at Stiles. “Dean's going to attack you with questions,” the man stated, smiling faintly at Stiles' eye roll in response.

 

“Yeah, yeah, and you get to avoid it. Lucky bastard.” Stiles smirked in amusement, however, as he nudged Derek away so he could stand up straight and move away from the car. “Seven. Don't be late.” With a cheeky grin and a wave, Stiles headed back toward the house, only going inside once Derek had actually driven off. All-in-all, it was a good but completely awkward night. Stiles smiled to himself as he went inside, ignoring Dean's slew of questions. Despite it all, he was really falling hard and fast for the elder male. It should have been more scary than it was, but Stiles could not keep from smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

When Derek got to the house, the rest of the pack was there already, including Allison and her father, Chris Argent. Derek’s brow rose and Chris motioned for him to join the others in the living room. “What's going on?” asked Derek as he leaned against the brick fireplace that was at the front of the room.

 

Chris sighed and ruffled his hair absentmindedly before he frowned a little as he said, “Well, there's another problem. There's some new hunters in town. They follow a different code than us. The--”

 

“Winchesters,” Derek interrupted with a nod, smirking faintly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

 

Everyone else looked completely confused, though Chris nodded a little at Derek. The alpha did not miss the man's almost adoring look as Chris thought about the hunters, looking toward the Betas. “What's so special about these hunters?” questioned Isaac as he cuddled up to Jackson’s side, resting his head on the other teen's shoulder.

 

“Remember when I told you about Purgatory?” he questioned, waiting until he received nods in answer before continuing, “those two _alone_ put about half of its' residents there.”

 

There was a low whistle from Boyd and Lydia looked completely unimpressed. Chris looked around at the others in complete shock at how unaffected they seemed as a whole. He was about to chastise them when Derek interrupted with a statement that had the man looking at the alpha as if he was completely insane. “I'm seeing their nephew,” Derek stated calmly.

 

Chris stumbled over his words before he finally got out, “Do you have a _death wish_ , Derek? Those two will--”

 

“Shoot first, ask questions later, I know. Stiles told me.”

 

“Whoa, wait,” stated Scott, sitting up a little more fully while finally tearing his gaze away from Allison. “My new best friend is related to these people? Badass.”

 

Chris glared over at Scott while Allison giggled behind her hand. “None of you are _comprehending_ how dangerous this is. They could wipe out the entire pack with minimal effort. Protecting Stiles is their top goal anymore, and the moment they find out that you're werewolves, they will not hesitate to kill all of you,” Chris said exasperatedly. He was trying to get it through their thick heads just how dangerous the situation is. “These are the types of hunters that see the world in one way; there's humans, and then there's not. Demons, werewolves, vampires, witches... all types of beings _die_ after an encounter with the Winchesters simply because they _exist_. There is no _code_. Sam is more empathetic toward ones like you, the ones who don't hurt people; but, Dean? He's trigger happy.”

 

“They also have no idea about us,” Derek said from his spot in the darkening corner. “I had dinner with them and their little angel friend tonight. They tested me with a salt line, holy water, and _silver_ ,” the wolves smirked a bit, “but nothing that would give us away. They think I’m human.”

 

That seemed to dispel any worries for that moment, though Scott did notice that Derek was still a bit on edge. If the alpha was still going to be cautious, than so was he. Chris sighed heavily, ruffling his already mussed hair before he said, “Be _careful_. The last thing we need is a bunch of rowdy hunters showing up and disrupting the peace here.”

 

Derek nodded a little, sending a fixed look to the Betas, who all seemed to understand that even though they were taking the news light-heartedly, they were not to underestimate these hunters. “Did we ever figure out what was in the woods?” he questioned since nobody had filled him in on anything.

 

Lydia sighed, examining her nails as Chris asked what they were talking about. “There's something in the woods. We don't know what it is, and Deaton's not been in town to get back to us. It's some kind of smoky thing,” she stated, flicking her hair back out of her eyes.

 

“Smoky thing? Like... a pillar of black smoke?” asked Chris slowly, looking over the others in the room. He seemed to tense when he received a nod in answer and he closed his eyes with a sigh. “A demon. It's a demon. Stay out of that part of the woods. We've not... we're not equipped to handle demons. That's--”

 

“What a Winchester is for,” Derek stated, lowly enough that it was almost missed, especially by the humans in the room.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles and Derek find themselves with a bad homecoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thanks so far for all the kind words, kudos, and reads. I'm glad people are enjoying this. I'm having a lot of fun melding the two worlds.

“A demon?” Stiles exclaimed, accidentally slamming his foot down on the break, causing himself and Scott to jerk forward in their seats the next morning as Stiles was driving them to school. “What do you mean _a demon_?” Stiles' seemed a bit shaky as he focused on driving again, ignoring the guy behind them honking and shouting at them.

 

Scott nodded a little, watching the other teen as he spoke. “Yeah, there's some kind of demon in the woods,” Scott explained to him. “Chris... Argent, he's a--”

 

“I know who Chris Argent is,” replied Stiles with a slight frown. He had an issue with all of the Argents, except for Allison, apparently. He found it hard to dislike Allison despite her family's reputation.

 

“Yeah, well, anyway; he says that they don't have the skills to deal with a demon.” Scott told him, fiddling with his phone, checking it for messages from Allison. “He knows the Winchesters are in town and wants to ask th--”

 

“No,” interrupted Stiles with a shake of his head, turning into the school parking lot. “I know what to do. I’ll handle it. We don't want them doing any kind of hunting or anything. They'll just... it'll get them thinking, and they'll find out about you guys and I really, really don't want to mess with that drama just yet.” Stiles parked the jeep and sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, frowning a bit. “They won't take the news well. They don't... They see things black and white, and it...”

 

Scott reached over to rest a hand on Stiles' shoulder, gently squeezing it. “Hey, it's all good, dude. I understand. Just... yeah, I’ll talk to Chris, let him know. Sure you'll be fine doing this?”

 

Stiles nodded a little as he and Scott climbed out of the jeep to head in to the school. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing. 'Ve done exorcisms before.”

 

“Dude, really? That's so cool.”

 

The two of them chuckled softly and made their way inside, talking about random television shows and movies. It was nice, Stiles thought with a smile as they continued along. He had never really had any actual friends since moving away. He was pretty sure that he and Scott used to play together in pre-school, but that was before. Growing up, really the only people he had were his much older uncles, his dad, and Bobby. Since then, Castiel had been added to the mix, and his dad was no longer with them. So, he had never really had friends _his age_. It was definitely different, but nice.

 

Stiles spent the day getting to know Scott and Isaac better between classes and during lunch; sometimes in class as well, but that was another story all together that earned them many warnings throughout the day. So, maybe Stiles was a bit too excited to actually feel like he had _friends_. It was allowed, right?

 

After classes that day, Stiles made his way toward his jeep while Danny, Jackson, Isaac, and Scott made their way to lacrosse. Stiles was not sure where the girls went off to, but he was more focused on getting home to get to the books that he would need. Of course, once he reached his jeep, he had to stop with a smile, seeing Derek leaning against the side of it. “Do you enjoy stalking the school or something?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest with an amused smirk.

 

“Scott let us know. About the whole you going to the woods thing,” Derek said simply, gruffly and a little tense as if he were completely against the idea. Maybe the guy was, Stiles had no idea. He could not completely read Derek yet, though it was on his goal of things to be able to do. “Maybe you shouldn't go alone.”

 

Stiles smiled and laughed a little as he said, “Yeah, well, it's better than someone else going with me and them getting hurt. I know how to deal with smoky apparitions. Just... let me handle it, okay? Sam and Dean won't get involved, nobody finds out anything, and you and I still go on our date in a few hours.”

 

“We're still going?” questioned Derek, his brow rising in surprise. He was not against going out with Stiles, he had just figured that if Stiles was determined to do the whole getting rid of the demon thing that would take up his evening, or he'd be exhausted afterward.

 

“Yeah, we are.” Stiles nodded a little as he uncrossed his arms, stepping closer to Derek, whose hands came up to rest on the teen's waist. “I might smell a bit like sulfur, 'cause it lingers for a long time, even if humans can't sense it; but, we're going.”

 

Derek nodded a little, absentmindedly squeezing Stiles hips a little. “Alright. Just... be careful.” Derek frowned, not wanting to let Stiles go. If he let the teen go, he was going to leave on his own to take care of the whole demon thing alone. He knew that Stiles would never agree to him going with; plus, from his conversation with Chris, a werewolf getting possessed is probably one of the worst things that could happen. Steering clear of the thing was the best plan. He felt an overwhelming need to go and keep Stiles safe, however.

 

Stiles beamed at him and stole a chaste kiss before pulling away. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing. You better be there by seven, on the dot, mister.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

In hindsight, it really probably was not Stiles' smartest moment to go out and face a bloody demon on his own. The amount of strength it took from him to send the crazily strong demon back to hell from the body of a hiker it had possessed had rendered Stiles unconscious for at least a few moments. Dean and Sam would _strangle_ him if they knew what he had done. It was not like Meg was around to help him at the moment, and Cas would only (albeit accidentally) tell Dean about their solo adventures in taking on a demon. Sam was, for obvious reasons, not a good possibility. There was still a big chance they could turn on Derek and his pack, and Stiles did _not_ want that in the slightest.

 

Bobby might have helped him, or Garth. They were both a bit more level-headed than his uncles were. Still, it probably had not been the most thought out plan. Stiles groaned as he pushed himself up off the ground and grabbed the book off the ground that he had read the exorcism rites from. With a glance at his cell phone, Stiles swore under his breath when he realized he had just under an hour to get back to the house and get ready for his date with Derek. That spurred him to quickly be rid of any signs of a devil's trap that had been made, so that the, thankfully, still alive but unconscious jogger would wake up and not have to question it as well as why there was a blank period in her memory.

 

He drove a bit more recklessly than he usually would have, but he made it home in record time, and before Sam and Dean made it back from their trip to the next town over, where they were meeting with someone about some life insurance policy his dad had taken out or something. He was not sure the details, only that he was not technically of age yet and that would mean that even if his dad had left him money, he would not get it for a while.

 

Stiles hopped into the shower, doing his best to be rid of the lingering smell of sulfur there probably was all over him from having that thing tackling him at one point. The thought alone made his skin crawl. By the time he got out of the shower, his skin was red from the heat of the water and how hard he had scrubbed with soap. He hated dealing with demons. They always made him feel so irritable afterward. With a frown, Stiles picked out something to wear (a plain white dress shirt that he left unbuttoned over his favorite “ _Bazinga!_ ” t-shirt and some dark jeans), and quickly changed. He pushed his sleeves up past his elbows which gave the wrinkled dress shirt an even more casual look than it had before.

 

He was finished with time to spare, and made his way downstairs, sighing as he hopped up onto the counter, opening a soda he grabbed from the refrigerator. It was much too quiet in the house without his uncles and Dean's tagalong there, but thankfully he would not be there alone for long. Sam and Dean were supposed to be back later that night; and, Stiles was really hoping that the trust he was putting in his uncles to not be researching the mysterious events that had plagued Beacon Hills a short time before their arrival was not going to be in vain. He did _not_ tango with a devil _alone_ for nothing.

 

The teen was so busy starting to fret about his uncles, trying to remember if he took his Adderall, and running his hands over his thighs with a nervous energy that he could not explain to realize that Derek was actually there (right on time) until there was a knock on the door that made Stiles jump, almost falling off the counter. Stiles laughed softly and sat aside the soda, double checking that he had his keys, wallet, and phone before going to the door. The nervousness faded away, and Stiles smiled brightly at Derek once he got the door open. “Hi,” he said, stepping out onto the porch as Derek took a step back.

 

“You got hurt,” Derek said instead of replying with a greeting in kind, taking Stiles' forearm in hand where there was a slightly jagged cut from a branch of some kind that had attacked him when he had fallen over. There was a frown on Derek’s face, and the alpha's brow was furrowed, not liking that he could not do anything to fix it.

 

“It's no big deal,” replied Stiles with a shrug, though he smiled as he moved his arm out of Derek’s grasp to take his hand in his own instead. “I'm fine. The demon's gone. Nothing to worry about.”

 

Stiles heart did not falter once, and he smiled brightly, which earned him a faint smile in return, but he could not get past the feeling that things were not as right and good as they seemed as they climbed into the car. Maybe it was just that nervous energy rebounding on him. Derek never ceased to make him nervous, and happy, and excited, and scared all at once. It was an odd mix of emotions; but, from what he understood, coming from someone you _liked_ , that could be considered a good thing.

 

“C'mon, stop worrying, Sourwolf,” stated Stiles, nudging Derek a bit. “Let's get out of here before my uncles get back and decide to play 'Twenty Questions', yeah?”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Derek agreed, mumbling the words a little with a nod before resting his hand on Stiles' lower back to lead the teen over to the car where he opened the door for Stiles to get in. He really hated the thought that Stiles was injured, even if it was a minor thing. However, he was not going to let that dampen the evening. He was not personally very fond of the whole fall festival thing, but Stiles wanted to go, so he figured he might as well make the most of things. He was just glad to get some time with the teen again, hopefully as uninterrupted as possible with as busy and noisy the fairgrounds were going to be.

 

Soon enough, the two of them were wandering the fairgrounds, side-by-side so that their arms brushed together as they moved, each holding on to a cup of warm apple cider as they walked. It was not too cold out, though the air was a bit more nippy than it had been over the previous few days. Stiles' nose was red from it. Derek found it cute. Stiles did not agree and made an exaggerated pout when the man had pointed it out to him. “So, how did you come upon your betas?” Stiles questioned, shifting his shoulders a little underneath Derek’s leather jacket that he was wearing so that it sat better on his slimmer frame. “They're not blood related, are they?”

 

Derek shook his head a little, glancing over to where he could see Jackson and Isaac walking, Jackson’s arm around the other boy's waist as they had a rather heated discussion over how Beacon Hills was going to win the lacrosse final _again_. “No, it's... complicated,” Derek answered, shifting his drink in his hand. Neither of them were worried about being overheard. The fall fest was too noisy and crowded. The only people who would possibly overhear were the ones that it did not matter if they did. It seemed for a moment that Derek was going to leave it at that, and Stiles was going to move on, but then the man was speaking again. “Scott was actually turned by my uncle, who we then killed because... well, he was a monster. He did not stay dead, though.”

 

Derek scowled a little at that fact, seemingly getting stuck on it before Stiles nudged him a little, softly making a joke about zombie werewolves that made Derek smirk a bit. “Yeah, well, Scott and I had issues at first; but, eventually he started to trust me when he realized I was only trying to protect him, and that I was completely lost on this whole alpha thing. He actually helped a lot. Jackson asked for the bite, he was... Well, it was a very dark time for him, but he worked through it; not until Isaac joined us, though. Isaac’s dad... he was a bit of a monster,” Derek explained slowly, scowling and tensing at the mere _thought_ of someone hurting his pack, even if it was before they were pack. Stiles' fingers curled around his arm, though; long fingers pressing into his pulse point there, and the alpha slowly calmed down a bit. “Boyd wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere, and Erica wanted a new start, a life free of her epilepsy. The humans are tied to the pack because of friendship or a relationship.”

 

“I didn't realize that humans could be _pack_ ,” Stiles commented, lifting the cider that was still in his free hand up to take a drink, glancing over at Derek while sliding his hand down the other man's arm in order to lace their fingers together.

 

“Humans have always been an important part of a pack.” Derek nodded a little with a faint smile at Stiles. Honestly, he was glad to answer the young hunter's questions about pack dynamics and the like. Stiles seemed to actually thrive under learning new information; and, unlike with hunters, he seemed to want to just _understand_ instead of use the knowledge as a weapon. “Pack is more than just the wolves. It's family.”

 

Stiles laughed softly with a smile, gently squeezing Derek’s hand again as the smile slowly turned into a smirk. “I told you that you should invest in a minivan, Papa Wolf.” Derek scowled, though the teen swore he saw an amused smirk beginning to form for a moment, and Stiles grinned.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The evening faded by much too fast for Stiles' liking, and soon enough, they were parked outside the house, Stiles still wearing Derek’s jacket as he tugged the man in enough to kiss him firmly, though still keeping the kiss simple. Neither one wanted to push to anything farther for a multitude of reasons. It did not last nearly long enough before Stiles felt Derek tense in front of him, feeling the way the man's entire body seemed to lock up with both his hands on Derek’s chest. Stiles backed away, brow furrowing as he watched Derek’s gaze lifted toward the house, eyes flashing red for a moment in a way that was all too unmistakable. Derek growled low in his chest and Stiles spun around to see Dean pointing a gun at them. It was not the Colt, but Stiles was sure it had silver bullets in it. He knew that silver would not hurt Derek, but that did not make the threat behind it any less real; and, if Dean had known silver did not work on this type of werewolf, he would have used wolfsbane. “Stiles, get out of the way,” Sam demanded from next to his brother, but Stiles did not move.

 

He set his jaw, straightening up a little more as he felt Derek rest a hand on his hip again. The man's grip tightened a little, but it was not to a point anywhere near painful and Stiles felt no pinch of claws. Derek had more self-restraint than Stiles had anticipated. The teen looked his eldest uncle straight in the eye as he stood his ground and replied, “No.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. That's where I decided to end the chapter. Why? 'Cause it felt like a good spot. Thoughts?


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation, a resolution, and a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has enjoyed this so far! I love reading the comments left. :)

“Stiles, get out of the way,” Sam demanded from next to his brother, but Stiles did not move.

 

He set his jaw, straightening up a little more as he felt Derek rest a hand on his hip again. The man's grip tightened a little, but it was not to a point anywhere near painful and Stiles felt no pinch of claws. Derek had more self-restraint than Stiles had anticipated. The teen looked his eldest uncle straight in the eye as he stood his ground and replied, “No.”

 

Sam sighed heavily with a frown, and Dean's grip tightened on the gun just a little. “Stiles, _move_ ,” insisted the elder of the two Winchester brothers, but their nephew stood their ground. “He's a--”

 

“I said _no_. Do I need to say it in Spanish?” Stiles scowled but kept his position in front of Derek, lowering one hand to rest on top of the other man's, his fingers brushing over Derek’s knuckles. Derek did not loosen his grip any, but he did not tighten it any more, either. “I know what he is, Dean. I don't _care_.” Stiles glanced over his shoulder at Derek, smiling softly before looking back toward his uncles. “I care about him, and I could very easily fall in love with him.” Stiles felt Derek’s grip on his hip tighten, but neither of them moved away from each other. If anything, Derek pulled Stiles a little closer to him and the teen rested so that his back was against Derek’s chest. “If you kill him, you'll have to kill me, too.”

 

There was a tense silence between the group as the Winchesters seemed to be thinking over their options, though there were not too many of them. Derek was fighting the want to take Stiles and move the teen behind him, to protect Stiles from the gun being pointed at them; but, he was keeping still in the hope that Dean would not be so far gone in his narrow-minded way of thinking that he would shoot Stiles just to get at him. “You're sixteen, Stiles,” Dean said after a moment, not lowering his gun. “You don't know what love is. You're protecting a monster.”

 

“I'm protecting someone that has never killed an innocent being,” countered Stiles with an exasperated sigh, flailing his hands a little. “Could you _please_ just get past this whole humans are good, others are evil, Dark Ages state of mind? Derek and his pack do not hurt people, they work with _the Argents_ to keep the town safe.”

 

“Dean,” Sam said softly, frowning a little as he looked between his brother and his nephew. He honestly did not like the situation at all, but at the same time knew that Stiles had put his mind to something and there was no changing that. He could not just stand there and let the kid be shot in cold blood because he was harboring feelings for a werewolf, feelings that as Dean had not-so-subtly pointed out could _change_. “Just... put the gun down.”

 

The elder Winchester did lower the gun at that, turning to look incredulously at his brother as he said, “You're on their side? Sammy.”

 

“Dean, just... Stiles says the guy is okay, that they've not hurt anyone. I mean, maybe we should let this one go...” The way that Sam let the words hang in the air made it quite clear that he did not tack on the “for now” that he so desperately wanted to add. Stiles was glad for it.

 

The teen let out a breath that he did not realize that he had been holding until Dean reluctantly handed the gun over to Sam, who put the safety on. Dean then looked at Stiles, pointing to the teen and then over his own shoulder. “You. Inside. Now. We're going to have a _long_ talk about this,” Dean insisted, glaring at Derek as if he were seriously contemplating stealing the gun back.

 

Stiles nodded a little with a heavy sigh before turning away to look at Derek with a faint smile. “Some date, huh?” the teen questioned softly for Derek to hear, but too low for his uncles. “They're going to take my phone; but, I _will_ see you.”

 

Derek did not say anything. He squeezed Stiles' hip gently once more, pressing a kiss to the teen's forehead before stepping away. “Scott will want a ride tomorrow,” Derek stated, knowing that he and Stiles needed to have a talk of their own once they got some time to themselves again. Stiles nodded, knowing that their need to talk was weighing heavily on Derek’s thoughts. “Good night, Stiles.”

 

With that one simple phrase, Stiles' worries faded away and he smiled, leaning up to steal an actual kiss from Derek before taking a few steps back. Derek was not saying _good-bye_ , and that was something that Stiles had honestly feared the man saying. The alpha did not smile back, though the faint upturn of his lips might have well been a full on grin as Derek climbed into the Camaro and made his way down the drive to the road. Only once they could no longer hear the car did Stiles turn around to look at his uncles, and Cas who had appeared next to Dean at some point when he was not paying attention. He could hear Castiel ask about what the plan was. “What are we going to do about Stiles?” was his specific question, but he was waved off by Dean, who frowned at Stiles.

 

“Inside,” Dean insisted as his nephew walked up the porch steps. He and Sam were the last ones inside while Castiel remained quiet and thoughtful, lingering in the shadows as he was known to do. Stiles went into the living room and sat down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest while he sank down low in his seat, bouncing one of his knees as his uncles each took one of the chairs on either side of the couch facing the coffee table in the middle. “How long have you known?”

 

“Since before we went out the first time,” Stiles answered with a shrug. “It's kinda obvious, really. I’ve trained with them this past week. Well, 'trained' is a bit too technical. It was mostly running a bit and a bunch of horseplay. They're all just big kids. They're not... it's not like the werewolves you're used to, y'know. They don't eat hearts or any of that stuff. Derek is actually a _born_ werewolf. It's more like...”

 

“ _Loup garou_ ,” Sam continued as Stiles trailed off, earning himself a nod from the teen while Dean continued to look confused. “They can control the shift?”

 

“Some more than others. Derek is actually really good at it. They just need an anchor, something to keep them human, to remind them that they _are_ human, and not a monster.” Stiles sighed and bit his lower lip lightly, unable to keep still while trying to ignore the faint buzzing sound from somewhere in the back of his head. He could just feel it starting a headache. “The only person Derek has killed was his own uncle, who turned Scott unwillingly and was killing people in revenge of their family's slaughter.”

 

Dean scowled as he rubbed his right temple, closing his eyes while taking deep breaths. “Stiles, these things... they're _not_ like us. What makes you think he's not going to turn on you?” questioned the elder Winchester, looking over at Stiles. “What if he bites you... or one of his little friends?”

 

“His _pack_. Yes, they're friends, but they're more than that.” Stiles shook his head a little, resting it on the back of the couch, shifting uncomfortably under the gaze that Castiel was fixing on him. “Scott's my best friend; and, I _trust_ Derek. Only he would be able to turn me, and he won't, or he would have already.”

 

“I don't like this.”

 

“I'm not asking you to.” Stiles shook his head again, sitting up straight once more. “I'm not asking either of you to be friends with him or to spend time with him or anything. Just... let me be happy, and don't hurt them. I don't care if you go out hunting again, as long as you leave them out of it.”

 

“If he hurts you...”

 

“Then I give you full rights to get a wolfsbane bullet and shoot him.” Sam could not keep from laughing a little at that, even when Dean glared at him, and Stiles smiled at his younger uncle. He knew he would probably be grounded for a while, but that was something he could deal with, as long as his new friends and Derek were off the hunting menu.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Stiles' hands were shaking and he was not exactly sure why. He did not feel like he was about to have a panic attack or anything; but, he was not sure what was wrong. His head hurt and he felt a little sick to his stomach. Maybe it was simply a delayed reaction to the dream he had woken up in a sweat from. Stiles had not been able to remember much about the dream as he showered, just that there was him standing in some kind of room with a bunch of candles, muttering some kind of cloaking spell as someone he did not know bled out on the floor in front of him. His hands had not started shaking until after he had gotten out of the shower and half-way dressed.

 

The teen closed his eyes and focused on taking slow, steadying breaths, slowly starting to calm down and steady himself. Once he was fine, Stiles finished getting dressed and went downstairs to grab some toast (and a glass of orange juice that Sam thrust at him) for breakfast. “Uh, thanks,” Stiles said before taking a sip of his juice, glancing around a little. “Where's Dean?”

 

“He and Cas went somewhere across country. Garth needed some help,” answered Sam with a shrug before getting back to doing the dishes, like he had been doing before Stiles came downstairs.

 

“And someone needed to stay and babysit me.” Stiles rolled his eyes and hopped up to sit on the counter, swinging his legs as he shifted the cup around between his fingers. “How did you guys find out about Derek, anyway?”

 

Sam seemed to contemplate on how to answer that question for a moment before he spoke with a slightly deeper voice. “ _I can't believe you didn't know there was a pack of werewolves there. The Hale family has been known as wolves for forever. Idjits._ ”

 

Stiles snorted into his orange juice and smirked a little in amusement. Of course, Bobby was the one to point out the obvious. “Well, he's got a point. I mean, we all know about Kate and what she did. Never sat right with me what she'd done.”

 

“Between you and me?” Sam said after a moment with a soft sigh. “I agree. What Argent did was above and beyond any moral standard that even a hunter should have.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“I forgot how amazing these burgers were,” Dean said around the giant bite he had just taken, sitting across from Garth but next to Castiel in a booth near the back of a diner. They all had newspapers and other random articles they were reading over to get a better handle on the case they were working.

 

Garth hummed an agreement, not looking up from the book that he was pouring over while Cas remained silent until the angel said, “What are we going to do about Stiles?”

 

“Stiles is grounded until forever. There's nothing to talk about.”

 

The angel's face pinched as he seemed completely at a loss to something, looking between Dean and Garth. “I'm not sure how grounding him is going to fix things.”

 

Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face, sinking down in his seat a little more. “Yeah, well, at least it will stop him from doing something stupid.”

 

“If you believe so,” replied Castiel after a moment, nodding a little while looking around the diner at the people enjoying themselves all around, completely oblivious to the fact that there was a nest of vampires nearby.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“You look tired,” Scott commented as Stiles drove the two of them to school after picking Scott up at his place.

 

Stiles nodded a little, taking a drink of the coffee he had stopped to pick up since his uncles would not allow him to make any at the house before noon. Assholes. “Yeah, I didn't sleep too well last night,” replied Stiles with a slight shrug. “Guess having my uncle point a gun at me messed with me more than I thought. There was a moment there when I thought that Dean might actually...”

 

“He wouldn't.” Scott shook his head a little, reaching over to squeeze Stiles' knee in platonic reassurance. “They love you, y'know, even if you hang out with us.”

 

“Yeah, I know.” Stiles smiled a little and took a drink of his coffee, shifting his hold on the steering wheel to turn into the school parking lot with one hand. He smile a bit more when he spotted a very familiar black Camaro parked near the edge of the parking lot and saw Derek standing there, talking to one of the betas.

 

After parking the car and turning off the engine, Stiles and Scott got out, both walking over to where Derek and Isaac were talking. “Hey, guys,” Stiles said with a smile that both Derek and Isaac returned.

 

“Allison's inside,” Isaac told Scott, who grinned and nodded before heading inside.

 

Stiles shook his head a little but smiled as Derek pulled him close, grabbing the front of the elder man's jacket that the teen still wore. “So, I’m pretty much grounded for a long while,” Stiles stated, wrapping an arm around Derek’s waist while glancing over at Isaac. “Which means I can't help you prank Jackson for a while.”

 

“Well, that's no good,” replied Isaac with a slight pout, crossing his arms over his chest. “Any way you can sneak out?”

 

“I would, but I figure the easiest way to get ungrounded is to stay on my uncles' good side for a bit.” Stiles nodded, absentmindedly twisting his fingers into the material of Derek’s shirt. “I'll be back in training sooner then.”

 

“Alright, then. I’ll hold you to that.” Isaac smiled at Stiles before waving as he told Derek he'd see him after classes.

 

Once they were alone, Stiles shifted enough to actually look at Derek and smiled a little. “So, I’m sorry about Sam and Dean,” he said, nodding a little. “But, I mean... at least now I don't have to lie? So that's a good thing.”

 

“Yeah,” replied Derek with a nod, pressing a kiss to Stiles' forehead. “I.. Thank you, for standing up for me... for us. You didn't have to, y'know.”

 

“Yeah, I did.” Stiles nodded a little and pressed a firm kiss to Derek’s lips. “I meant everything I said to them.”

 

Derek laughed a little, looking equally parts awkward, confused, and happy. He was not sure what to think about all of it, but he knew that he cared a lot for the teen in his arms. “You should head inside. Wouldn't want to make you late,” Derek stated after a few moments, stealing one more kiss before letting Stiles go. The teen had taken a few steps away when Derek cleared his throat and said, “You know, I think... I think that I could very easily fall in love with you, too.”

 

Stiles stumbled a little, eyes widening in complete shock before a brilliant grin crossed his face, looking toward Derek. “Good. 'Cause I don't plan on letting you go anytime soon, Sourwolf.” He smiled once again before turning to walk toward the school once again.

 

Stiles could not keep the smile off his face all day, a light, happy feeling overwhelming him in a way he had never actually felt before. Boyd commented on his good mood, and Stiles simply shrugged and said that things were finally starting to go right. He tried to squish the thought that the entire thing meant that something was going to go wrong, and he should just wait for the entire fall out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any ideas on what the new drama is going to be? :D


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some questions are answered, and others are made.

Stiles was alone in the locker room, staring blankly at the floor. He had no idea how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was leaving the cafeteria at lunch to get a soda from the vending machine. His cell phone was on the bench next to him, vibrating non-stop, but he could not bring himself to answer the phone call. Stiles felt sick and the smell of burning flesh would not leave him alone. “Holy god,” he gasped before actually getting up and running to the nearest stall to empty the contents of his stomach.

 

He cringed when he pulled away, flushing the toilet while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before going to the sink to gather some water in his hands to splash onto his face. He rinsed out his mouth and washed his hands while he was there, wishing he did not feel so... _dirty_. “Fuck,” the teen said with a heavy, shaky exhale, closing his eyes as he stood there. When he opened his eyes again, he found someone else in the locker room behind him, spotting the figure in the mirror. He spun around to see Mr. Hogg standing there with a rather intimidating smirk. “Uh...”

 

The school principal held up Stiles' phone as he said, “I told your uncle that you got caught up assisting me in reorganizing the library.” He raised an eyebrow as he studied the paler-than-usual teen in front of him. “Now, tell me, Stiles. What are you doing here after hours?” He smirked again as Stiles seemed to struggle to come up with an answer. “You're not in sports and I highly doubt the librarian would have stayed this long.”

 

“Uhm... I just came back, found an open door, because I forgot something; and, then I felt sick, so...” Stiles did not stammer over his words, but the amused glint in Mr. Hogg's eyes made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “I'm just gonna go. Can I have my phone back?”

 

“Catch.”

 

Without farther warning, the principal tossed the phone at Stiles' face, who barely caught it before it hit him. Stiles grabbed his backpack and quickly left, not sure if he imagined or actually heard the principal say, “I'll be seeing you, Mr. Stilinski.”

 

Stiles ran out to his Jeep and quickly left the school, calling Sam as he drove. “Hey, yeah, sorry,” he said, flinching a little when he heard Dean shouting in the background. Apparently, he and Castiel were already back. “I got asked to help fix the library for extra credit.” He had interrupted the yelling from both Dean and Sam, who both quietened a little. “Sorry. I forgot to warn you. I’ll be home in like ten minutes, you can yell at me then.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was after his uncles and Castiel had gone to bed that Stiles realized how restless he was. He could not sleep, though he wanted to and he did try, staring at the ceiling from his bed. Something was going on, and he was pretty sure that no matter what it was, it wasn't good. “Holy god,” Stiles groaned once again, pushing himself up off his bed so that he could go over to his desk where he opened up his laptop. He was only allowed to use it for homework and hunting research, but he could erase his tracks.

 

He started out simply watching some mindless comedy movie while drinking some chamomile tea that he hoped would calm him down. Stiles bounced his knee and swung from side-to-side in the rotating chair that he occupied. It was not working, he realized at some point after one in the morning. Stiles sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He had not missed a dose of his Adderall, nor had he taken more than the right amount; so, he had no idea why he could not calm down. His heart felt like it was beating more rapidly than usual. His mind would not settle, either. Somehow, he found himself going through different forums and sites on the supernatural. A lot of them were wrong, others had vague ideas of what was right, and still others were so accurate they had to have been put up by hunters.

 

Stiles was about to give up and take some Benedryl enough to make him drowsy so that he could sleep when he found himself reading a page on possession. His brow furrowed the longer he read, and after a while (Stiles honestly had no idea how long he had been there), he quickly closed the tab, cleared his history, and shut the laptop, all but jumping out of his chair. Stiles heart was beating even more rapidly and he felt a bit faint. That could not be what was going on with him. There would be a sulfur smell, and none of the werewolves had said anything. So, it was not there. Stiles continued to reassure himself that it was just a coincidence. It was something else going on with him. It was probably magic related. He needed to find someone to talk to that wasn't his family, part of the pack, or one of the Argents; and, he needed to do it soon.

 

He sighed and glanced over at the clock on his bedside table, frowning when he saw that his alarm was about to go off. He went over and shut off the timer before going to grab the clothes he would wear to school and then went into the bathroom for a quick shower. After he had gotten ready for the day, he made his way back downstairs to the kitchen. Castiel was eying him while cooking breakfast as Sam and Dean both sat at the table, discussing the Argents coming over for dinner that evening and going to talk to Deaton at some point about something they had found out about while working with Garth. “Alan's here?” questioned Stiles, perking up a little more as he grabbed the glass of milk that had been set out for him.

 

“Yep,” replied Dean with a nod, closing the journal that was spread open on the table. “Something big's going down, kid. Keep your guard up for anything unusual.”

 

Stiles did not miss the way that Castiel's gaze fell onto him again and he busied himself with sitting down and drinking his milk after nodding. “Could I go talk to him after school?” questioned Stiles, twisting his glass around on top of the table. “You could call him and make sure I go there and everything. I’d like to see him again. S'been a while.”

 

The brothers shared a look, not exactly sure if they should agree to it; but, they knew that Deaton had helped a lot with Stiles' training, and he had helped them in a lot of sticky situations. Plus, the man had been a good friend of Stiles' father. “Sure, kid,” replied Sam after a moment with a nod. “Just an hour, though. Then, you come here and start on the dishes or homework.”

 

“Yeah, alright, thanks.” Stiles beamed and finished off the milk in the glass before setting it aside, feeling a little nauseous. He was not sure he would be able to force himself to eat any of the breakfast. “I should probably go. I've got to talk to Mr. Harris about this problem on my chemistry homework.” Stiles did not wait for a response before he was rushing for the door, getting out of the house as soon as possible.

 

He had no explanation for his actions, he realized as he drove toward Scott's house. He had just felt trapped or something. Stiles was not sure what the feeling was. All he knew was that it was almost similar to a panic attack, like there was too much going on all at once. His skin felt too tight, too much; and, he had no idea what was going on with him.

 

Scott did not seem to notice that anything was different, however. Maybe it was all in Stiles' head, then. It would not have surprised him if it was simply a result of stress and little sleep. Then again, he had never had blackouts because of that before. “Dude, are you okay?” Scott asked when they were almost to the school, neither one of them bothering to check their cell phones that were vibrating in their own hoodie pockets.

 

“Yeah, s'just been an odd few days,” replied Stiles with a distracted nod, his brow furrowing a little as he turned into the school parking lot, which was filled with police cars and an ambulance. Stiles' face blanched even more than it was to a point where it almost looked ashen as he watched them load a stretcher into the ambulance with a black bag strapped to the top of it. “What's going on?”

 

“I have no idea,” Scott mumbled as the two of them got out and made their way to the small crowd of people that were near the police tape line, none of them having received the call about classes being canceled for the day before having left for school.

 

The two teens stood there, trying to get a glimpse of anything that might tell them what was going on. Stiles' stomach rolled when he heard someone whispering furiously about hearing that some janitor was burned to death in the school the night before using ingredients from the chemistry lab. It was too specific to have not been on purpose. The only thing no one could figure out was who would want to attack a janitor. Stiles felt sick and he stumbled back toward his Jeep, starting a little when Scott was suddenly at his side, asking if he was okay. “I-I need, oh _my god_ , Scott,” Stiles stumbled over his words, eyes darting across the parking lot to where the principal was leaning back against his black sports car. “I think I'm... I’ve....” Scott's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried again to ask what was wrong and Stiles shook his head, climbing into the Jeep.

 

Scott stood there dumbly as Stiles sped off for a moment before pulling out his cell phone to call Derek. “Hey, uh, I think... Dude, I think something's really messed up right now,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked from the school to the direction that Stiles had driven. “Some guy was killed at the school last night and Stiles is... well, I dunno. He just _freaked_ and left.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Stiles parked the Jeep outside the animal clinic in town, not sure how he knew that it was where Alan was working, but he knew. Running a hand over his face with a heavy sigh, the teen climbed out of the car and then went inside the building. “Alan?” he called, looking around a little while walking over toward the low wall that divided the back of the clinic and the waiting area, pausing to look at the top of the swinging door, fingers brushing along the side of it.

 

“Stiles,” replied Alan Deaton as he came out of the back, a faint smile tugging on his lips. “I never expected to see you here. When did you...?”

 

“Almost a month now.” Stiles mumbled the words, glancing over at the calendar. Halloween was drawing even more close. “Fitting. Huh.” The teen then looked back to the veterinarian, whose expression had gone stoney and arms had crossed over his chest. Stiles just grinned though he was not fully sure why. He did not want to smile. He had nothing to smile over. He seemed to be fighting for consciousness, something making him want to pass out or something. The teen barely had time to react before he was no longer fully aware of what was going on.

 

Everything seemed muted and he tried to move away from Deaton but his body did not respond. Then, Stiles froze as he heard his own voice saying, “Well, I see you're quick on the uptake, Deaton.” A chuckled passed his lips but it was a lot darker than anything he had been known to produce. “Mountain ash. Very neat trick.”

 

“Which one are you?” questioned the man behind the counter, all but glaring at Stiles.

 

No, Stiles told himself. Deaton was not really glaring at _him_ , but at whatever it was that had control over him at the moment. It was pretty exhausting trying to keep up with what was going on and to keep what little awareness he had. His body simply smirked and made a vague motion with his hand that sent Deaton stumbling back, nearly falling into the wall. “Hmm... not nearly what I had hoped. Your mountain ash trick is effective, then,” stated Stiles. No, no, it wasn't him, Stiles told himself once again. The entire thing was completely _frustrating_.

 

Stiles' awareness faded to nothing after that until he found himself parking the Jeep outside of his house. The teen's heart was racing and he was not sure why. Stiles' brow furrowed as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, looking over toward the house. A car that Stiles knew to belong to Chris Argent was parked out front, next to the Camaro. Stiles did a double take at that. The Camaro? What was Derek doing there? He quickly turned off the Jeep, and then made his way inside the house. He only got as far as the living room when he stopped, seeing his uncles, Castiel, Chris, and Derek all standing there. Their expressions varied, but the most common one would be one of confusion.

 

He took a step forward to go over to them and ask what was going on when he realized that he could not move any farther and his gaze slowly trailed upward to where a hasty, red devil's trap was painted onto the ceiling. A smirk twisted up on Stiles' lips as his gaze lowered to the others in the room and Dean let out a nearly feral sounding growl at the fact that his nephews eyes were completely blacked out. “Deaton was right,” Sam said with a scowl, his grip on the knife that they had gotten from Ruby all that time ago shifting. Chris had the Colt in hand and Derek seemed completely out of place.

 

“Well, now, that isn't very friendly,” stated Stiles as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Has anyone ever told you that you don't play well with others, Dean?”

 

“What do you want with Stiles?” was all that he received in response. Well, the demon controlling him received the answer, anyway.

 

The demon clicked his tongue and sighed with a shake of his head. “Really? That's the first question you're going to ask?” stated the creature as he started to walk around the circle a little to expel some of the excess energy that the body he was claiming had. “After taking the poor boy's dear old dad, didn't you think I’d get him next? This is such a nice suit, though. I think I may keep it.”

 

Derek’s confused expression only seemed to grow as he looked between Stiles and the hunters in the room. He had simply gone to the house to see if Stiles was there after what Scott had told him. However, Deaton's phone call had interrupted their conversation and they had asked Derek to stay. “I thought you knew,” Castiel said softly, looking over at Dean. “That was why I was asking...”

 

“What we were going to do with Stiles,” stated Dean, his voice barely audible to even Derek as he looked from the angel to his nephew's body. “What I want to know is _how_ did you even possess him in the first place?”

 

The demon dropped a hand down to his side and pulled out a black, leather cord that looked as though it was what had made up the anti-possession necklace that Stiles was supposed to always wear. “The thing about these,” he stated as he tossed the cord out of the circle created by the devil's trap, “are that they can so easily be ripped off without even alarming the wearer. You really should have just gotten him the tattoo.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O So Stiles has been possessed. More information on how and all that fun stuff in the next chapter.


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In dealing with the demon, and Bobby arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone! :D

“ _I need a spell,” Stiles said as he walked into the small, metaphysical shop downtown that did not get too many visitors. Of course, Stiles was not mentally present at the time, but nobody around him knew that._

 

_The kindly looking woman behind the counter eyed him warily, reaching up to wrap her fingers around a pendant that she wore. “What kind of spell, dearie?” she asked in a slightly graveled voice._

 

“ _The kind that will keep wolves off my scent.”_

 

“ _A mask.”_

 

_Stiles nodded with a smirk. “A mask.”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Stiles hummed to himself as he slowly walked the halls of the school, heel to toe as he brushed his fingers along the lockers along the wall. “Come little children, I’ll take thee away,” he sang under his breath before letting out a laugh that would never have passed his lips were it truly him. His eyes were blackened and a wicked smirk twisted up on his features. So many deaths that were not yet realized were going to be on the poor teenager's conscience... That was if he survived._

 

“ _Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said in a sing-song voice, smirking with a soft laugh as he could hear the sounds of someone running on the floor above him, shifting his grip on the bottle he held in his other hand. “Do you really think that will work?”_

 

_In a matter of moments, Stiles was on the floor above, in front of the janitor that was trying to run, smiling charmingly. The man's eyes widened in fear as he stumbled back a few steps. “Isn't it sad how easy this place makes it for students to get their hands on dangerous chemicals?” questioned the demon, taking a step toward the man who seemed clueless as to what he should do. “The boss wants you dead.”_

 

“ _Wh-why? What did I do?” stuttered the man, pressing himself back against the wall._

 

“ _Huh.” Stiles paused, looking contemplative for a moment before he looked back to the janitor. “You know. I never thought to ask.” Without another word, Stiles tossed the crudely made Molotov cocktail at the man and smirked as he caught fire._

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Stiles was pacing inside the Devil's Trap while everyone was talking options. If they just exorcised the demon, it would come back. However, it was in _Stiles_ , and effectively getting rid of the demon possessing him would put the teen at risk. None of them seemed to be willing to do it. “Let's just send the damn thing back to hell, make sure everyone has the anti-possession symbol, and be ready for this fucker to get back,” Dean finally stated, shrugging off Sam's hand on his arm. “I want it gone. _Now_.”

 

The demon smirked a little, fingers reaching up to brush against the collarbone of the body it was possessing as Sam stepped forward and started to recite the passage that was needed, knowing that Dean was not in the right state of mind to try to get it right. Lights flickered and the house shook a little, but the demon just continued to smirk, a low laugh slowly building up the longer and more intense Sam's reciting grew. “Oh, come _on_ ,” the demon said, eyes flashing black once again as an amused grin formed on his face. “You really think I’d just give up this suit that easily? It's nice.” He reached up and grabbed the collar of his t-shirt, tugging it out of the way enough to show a brand on the teen's pale skin, a mark that would bind the demon to the body. Stiles had been too busy freaking out about everything to notice the difference. “I've work to do for the boss still.”

 

“Crowley,” Dean said with a scowl, narrowing his eyes. “Where is he?”

 

“Closer than you think.”

 

“Enough of this!” Dean slammed his fist down on the table. “Cas, get rid of it.”

 

The demon took a quick step back, as far back as he could, when Castiel moved forward and he waved his index finger back and forth as he said, “Ah-ah-ah. Touch me, angel boy, and the kid dies.”

 

“It's not lying,” Derek said with a low growl from his spot in the corner, arms crossed over his chest. He did not trust himself to get any closer; knowing that if he did, he would only end up doing something rather stupid. He wanted whatever demon that was possessing his boyfriend to be gone, but he did not know how to do that, and physical violence was typically a go-to. He did not want to hurt Stiles, though.

 

Chris Argent eyed the Colt, which was laying on a table near by. He was told that one shot from it would send any supernatural being to purgatory. Bound to Stiles or not, Chris was pretty sure that it would work. After all, there was an intense magic in the gun. As long as he did not hit the kid in a vital area, he would be alright, and demon-free. He walked over and grabbed the Colt before anyone could really process what was going on, and by the time he took aim and shot at Stiles' shoulder, Dean and Sam were both shouting, “No!”

 

There was a flash of white light from inside the devil's trap, and by the time it faded, Stiles was no longer in the middle of it. Derek growled lowly and his eyes flashed red as he turned his gaze to Chris, who shakily set down the Colt, his face pale and confused. He had thought... “What happened?” the hunter mumbled as Dean angrily took the Colt from the other man. “I thought... I thought it was supposed to be rid of any supernatural being.”

 

“Yeah, and any vessel it's in with it,” stated Sam as he ran a hand through his hair, trying his hardest to keep his voice even while Castiel was just staring blankly at the spot that Stiles had been in moments before.

 

“Where is he?” Derek growled again, his fingers nearly bruising his own arms from the grip he had on them to stop himself from attacking Chris.

 

Nobody answered for the longest time, and Derek started to grow even more agitated until Castiel finally stated, “Purgatory. He's in purgatory.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Stiles sat up with a gasp, reaching up to grab his shoulder where there was a phantom pain. His brow furrowed and he moved his shirt (which had a hole ripped in it) out of the way to see where what looked like a scarred over bullet wound replaced the binding symbol that had been there. Stiles' brushed his fingers over the bright white skin, not sure how it was not a gaping, bleeding wound; but, he was not going to dwell on that. “What the fuck?” he grumbled under his breath as he pushed himself up off the floor and dusted off the back of his jeans, looking at the woods around him. He frowned as he realized they were not the woods in Beacon Hills. “Where the hell am I?”

 

He tensed when he heard leaves rustling behind him, and his hand immediately went to the knife he could feel in the pocket on the side of his cargo pants. Sometimes, practicality was a great thing. He easily reached down and pulled it out, spinning around just in time to see two shapes come tumbling into the clearing. They were fighting one another in a mix of swinging arms, sharp teeth, and low growls. Stiles smartly backed out of the way until his back hit a tree behind him and his eyes widened as he watched the creature on top slash the throat of the other with one hand.

 

Stiles swallowed thickly as he tightened his grip on the handle, readying his stance as the thing before him slowly stood and what he saw next caused him to drop the knife in shock. “You're dead,” he said slowly, watching as Laura Hale took a few slow, calculating steps toward him.

 

“Who are you?” she questioned, her voice holding a slight edge to it that could only come from years of fighting. She looked rather well, for being dead, Stiles thought; a little dirty and in desperate need of a shower, but otherwise good. “And why do you smell like my brother?”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Wait, what are you saying?” questioned Scott, holding back his want to whine as he, the other betas, Derek, the Winchesters, Castiel, Chris, Allison, and Dr. Deaton all stood around the back room in the animal clinic.

 

“Dad you _shot_ him?” Allison said, panic in her rising voice as she wrung her hands together in front of her; and, Chris had the decency to look ashamed, even though everyone was well aware of the fact that that he had only done what he thought would be helpful. “We have to get him back.”

 

“That's the plan,” stated Sam with a nod, ignoring Dean's grumble about how they were wasting time.

 

Deaton nodded a little from his place in the shadows, taking a step forward. “I can get you into purgatory easily enough,” the man stated, though everyone heard the unvoiced “but” to that statement.

 

“Getting there is not the problem,” Castiel said, staring at a spot on the ground as he clenched his fist absentmindedly, taking a deep breath when Dean gently squeezed his shoulder. “It is getting back out.”

 

At that time, the sound of the front door opening reached their ears and the werewolves in the room all tensed while Deaton started toward the door so that he could tell whoever it was that the shop was closed, as the sign on the door very well stated. However, before he could get to it, two people came into the room, the shorter of the two looking around the room from under the brim of his hat before he said in a gruff voice, “What did you manage to mess up now? Idjits.”

 

“He did it,” Sam, Dean, and Castiel all stated as they pointed at each other, before laughing slightly as they lowered their hands and everyone in the room relaxed slightly. Dean cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair before saying, “Sorry, reflex. Uh, this is Bobby, and Garth. They're friends of ours.”

 

“Where's the runt?” asked Garth, all but bouncing on his toes with a smile. “I brought his favorite, and...” The man's eyes narrowed a little as he looked around the room at all the unknown, distraught faces. “What's going on?”

 

“Stiles is in purgatory,” Castiel stated, causing Garth's jaw to drop and Bobby to freeze in place.

 

“Way to soften the blow, Cas,” grumbled Dean as he straightened his jacket a little. “We're getting him back.”

 

Bobby made a sound in his throat, one that none of them could give name to but put his agitation across quite well. “You're damn right you are,” scolded the other man as he tipped his hat back on his head so that he could see Sam and Dean better. “The kid is your responsibility. Now, how in the blazes did this even happen? Idjits. The lot of you.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You're going to need better than that to protect yourself here, kid,” Laura stated from her spot on the ground next to Stiles, watching him as he toyed with the knife in his hand. “There's more than just werewolves in these woods.” Stiles' brow furrowed a little as he looked up at her and she brushed her hair out of her face. “Anything supernatural that dies finds itself locked in here.”

 

“I'm in purgatory?” replied Stiles, his voice slightly hoarse as he wet his lips. “I'm not supernatural, though; then again, I think I was possessed.” His brow furrowed as he tried to concentrate on the muddy memories he had from before waking up in those woods. He could almost feel himself being shot, but he did not know why, or why there was just a scar and not a wound. It was odd. The entire place was odd, though. “Are there demons here?”

 

“Yes. They do not need to possess a body here, either. Though sometimes they will. Are you marked?” She let her eyes travel along the teen's body, trying to guess an age for him to know if he was even old enough to have the symbol inked into his skin.

 

Stiles shook his head a little before exhaling a shaky breath. “No, but I know what it looks like in detail. I could... I mean... it would probably be the best thing, right?”

 

Laura nodded stiffly and Stiles returned the gesture before looking up at the stars once again. A tense silence fell between them as they sat there, listening for the sounds of any danger around them. Stiles was trying to think back over everything he had ever read on purgatory after finding out that his uncle had been there once. He was not sure how Dean had gotten out, but from what he had read, there was not supposed to actually be a way out without divine assistance. Maybe Cas was... Stiles let out a breath that was mixed with a shaky laugh before he lay down, his knees still bent up. “What?” Laura questioned him as she looked down at him.

 

“My friends are going to come get me, my uncles...” he replied with a nod.

 

“Then, they're foolish.”

 

“Your brother.”

 

A genuine smile formed on Laura’s face at the teen's statement and she laughed softly, a sound that resembled her brother's. Laura nodded as she toyed with her modified weapon, fingers brushing along the length of its wooden handle. “My brother has never been known to fully think things through.” She wet her split lips and sighed softly, tipping her head up to look at the sky. “You better take care of him, Stilinski.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I dunno. XD


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Purgatory.

Laura and Stiles traveled only during the day, and slept in shifts at night, sometimes sitting up together all night instead. They traded stories of growing up, and Stiles got to learn more about werewolves, and his boyfriend. “Derek's always been a sucker for those cheesy romantic comedies,” Laura informed him on his third night in purgatory as they sat next to a fire in the cave they had found to shield them from the rain.

 

Stiles smiled at the information, ignoring the way it hurt the cut across his left cheek that he had gotten from the two of them fighting some vampires. One of them had recognized Stiles as being related to the Winchesters and asked if he really thought Dean would return to purgatory to save him. Stiles responded by beheading her. “If anything, Derek will find a way here,” Laura had told him as she helped him up from where he had fallen to the ground. “Let's find a river so you can wash that blood off.”

 

That had been before the rain moved in and night fell. “Neither Dean or Cas will talk about their time here,” Stiles said as he picked some bark off the stick in his hand that he had brought into the cave with him, glancing toward the entrance before looking back to Laura. “Sam doesn't even really know what they went through. It's like an unspoken agreement to not talk about it... or Hell. They've both been, y'know? Cas pulled Dean out. I've never heard a real explanation of what happened to Sam or how he had gotten out.” Laura's brow furrowed in silent question, and Stiles absentmindedly wet his lips before continuing to speak. “If anyone can get us out of here, it's Sam and Dean.”

 

“Us?” questioned Laura with a soft laugh, smirking in amusement.

 

“Yes, _us_. D'you really think I’d just _leave_ you here after this?” Stiles shook his head with a smirk of his own before reaching over to poke Laura with the stick in his hand. “You're stuck with me, now.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“We're not sure it can bring back anyone that is _not_ human,” Garth explained with a frown, bouncing his knee as he sat at the table, reading over one of the spells that he had found.

 

“I don't care,” replied Derek from his place in the shadowy corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest with a frown set on his face. “If it gets him home...”

 

“Stiles will care,” Sam stated with a frown. “He won't leave without everyone, and if we _make_ him, he'll only keep trying to get them back until he succeeds or it destroys him.”

 

Dean smirked a little at his brother, leaning against one of the walls, and said, “He's almost as stubborn as I am.”

 

“We'll keep looking,” stated Chris with a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “There's got to be something we're missing.”

 

“There's too many of us to do it like before.” Dean sighed as he walked over to the couch Sam was sitting on and dropped down onto it with a heavy sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out just how everything had happened. He almost wished they could just go back to the fact that their nephew was dating a werewolf; a werewolf who, to his credit, was doing whatever he could to help them figure out how to get Stiles back. “This is such bullshit. There's _got_ to be something. I can't...” Dean stopped and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. “We promised his father we'd take care of him.”

 

Bobby sighed from his place at the table with Garth, shaking his head a little as he said, “John would understand. This--”

 

“It's been _three days_ , Bobby! I barely survived in there and Stiles has _not_ had the training that I have.” Dean's voice started to raise in octave and he cleared his throat before saying, “Purgatory is no walk in the park. Leviathan, werewolves, windigos, shapeshifters, _demons_.”

 

“I think you're underestimating Stiles just a little,” Garth said with an amused smirk from his seat, sharing a look with Bobby. “He's learned more than you give him credit for.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Duck!” Laura called, making Stiles crouch down in just enough time to miss a blade swinging at his head.

 

He spun around, sticking his leg out in order to knock out their attacker's feet from underneath him. The thing fell to the ground and Laura sprung forward to rip his throat out before it had a chance to move. Neither one was quite sure what the thing was, but they watched as it died. Stiles used one of the matches from a pack they had found to burn the body, just in case. “Too bad we don't have salt,” Stiles grumbled, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt so that they were past his elbows before he idly twirled the blade in his hand around, watching the flames in front of them dance.

 

Laura reached over and gently squeezed Stiles' shoulder, making the teen flinch a little. “Sorry, I forgot,” she replied, running her hand over Stiles' shoulder as she carefully leeched some of the pain from him.

 

He had carved the anti-possession symbol into his shoulder, above where the binding mark used to be and the bullet scar. It had not healed yet, but at least they knew he was no longer in danger of being possessed. “Are there any other nifty little symbols like that?” questioned Laura as she sat down on a nearby rock, the two of them silently deciding to take a rest. They had been on the go so much that even Laura was beginning to feel drained.

 

“The only ones I know are wards against angels.” Stiles lifted his shoulders in a shrug, nodding a little at the same time. “I don't think we really have to worry about them here, though.”

 

It was then that they heard a twig snapping somewhere to the right, making Stiles face that direction immediately, knife extended in front of him while Laura stood with her eyes flashing gold. “Stiles, I think it's time we run,” she said softly, reaching out for his arm to tug him in the opposite direction, but they both froze when a voice rang out from the trees in front of them.

 

“Now, how in the hell did you find yourself down here?” the person questioned, and Laura still seemed ready to run but she stayed where she was when Stiles smiled slightly just as a brunette young woman stepped into their clearing. “Does Dean know you're running with wolves?”

 

“You know this woman?” Laura asked, tense as ever. She did not like this girl, not at all. Something about her just seemed off.

 

Stiles nodded in answer to both their questions before he said, “Dean knows. Laura, this is Meg. Meg, Laura.”

 

Meg's brow lifted a little as she smirked. “Laura _Hale_? Huh. I met your brother Eli. Cool kid.”

 

“Eli! Is he okay?” Laura's heart rate sped up in slight fear, her grip tightening on Stiles' arm just a little and she let out a heavy breath when Meg slowly shook her head with a frown.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

Laura nodded a little, reaching up to wipe at her eyes with her free hand. Stiles did not even try to get Laura to let go. He could not even imagine how she felt. Her family had died only to continue living in a place that many would consider a hell, and then to have him actually die. It had to be painful. “I hate to break the mood, but there are some vamps on my tail, so I shou--” Meg started to say, but Stiles cut her off with a wave of his hand.

 

“You're coming with us,” Stiles insisted, nodding once. “Meg's... well, she's a bitch, but she comes through in the end.”  
  


Laura's brow rose a little and Meg just shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? It's true.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was four in the morning. Almost everyone was asleep at the urging of others. If they were going to be of any assistance to Stiles, they would need to be rested. The house was quiet, and then suddenly, from the kitchen Garth started shouting, “Guys! Shit, guys wake up! I found it. I found the way through.”

 

Dean practically fell off the couch, where he had fallen asleep between Cas and Sam with his head on Cas' shoulder. “What?” he asked groggily while Sam stretched and slowly stood up, rubbing his face. “What's happening?”

 

Garth then came rushing into the living room, where everyone was ambling toward from wherever it had been that they were resting. He was reading and rereading the passage in the book he was reading, a grin lighting up his face. “I just found how we can get Stiles back.”

 

“Now, the only thing you idjits need to do is to not get yourselves killed,” Bobby grumbled from where he sat on one of the chairs, rubbing his face tiredly with one hand.

 

Dean said nothing as he walked over to a pre-packed duffel-bag sitting on the floor to pull it up on the table and make sure they had everything they would need to defend themselves. “Sammy, you ready?” Dean asked, double checking that he had both silver and wolfsbane bullets. “Cas?”

 

“We're ready,” replied Cas for Sam, who simply nodded in response.

 

“I'm going, too,” Derek stated, ignoring Scott's protests that he should go too. Stiles was his best friend, after all.

 

Dean was reluctant to let Derek go, but he eventually nodded. More force on their side would not be a bad thing. He drew the line at the kid, though, and shook his head as he said, “You stay here. There's enough of us to look out for as it is.”

 

Scott huffed and glared, looking like he was about to argue, but Allison rested a hand on Scott's arm and squeezed it gently. “We'll wait here, make sure we've got anything we need for when you get back,” Allison stated with a nod that Dean returned before he picked the bag up and shrugged it onto his shoulder.

 

“You have two days to find him, Dean,” Garth informed the man as he started to gather the ingredients he needed to put into a little spell bag that he would give to Dean to keep. “Everyone _must_ be touching you or touching someone who is in order for the portal to bring you back.”

 

“We'll go again if we have to,” insisted Sam with a nod, crossing his arms over his chest. “We leave as soon as it's ready.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Ugh,” Stiles groaned, wiping blood off of his face as well as he could before pushing the sleeves of his shirt up past his elbows once again. “Vampires.” The teen scowled as he wiped his blade off on his jeans, looking over to where Meg was relaxing against a tree, picking dirt out from under her nails with her own blade. “Sometimes, I wish they just sparkled in the sun.”

 

Meg snorted and Laura rolled her eyes before tying the length of her hair back with an elastic band she got off of one of the vampires. “We need to find a place to make camp,” she insisted, glancing over to where the sun was setting. It had been a long day and they were all tired. Well, Meg seemed more amused than tired, but Stiles was used to it. Laura still did not like her.

 

“I know a place near-by,” Meg said as she pushed herself upright, storing her blade in the top of her boot against her leg. “It's hidden, just out of anyone's sight unless they're right on top of us, and by then it's too late for them.” The demon's eyes narrowed after a moment as she watched Stiles, who winced a little as he walked, acting too much like someone who was trying to hide an injury. “You okay there, kid?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Stiles insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Who wouldn't be sore after this shit? Let's just find a camping spot like yesterday.” Laura watched him for a moment, trying to judge for any major injuries. The smell of blood was too strong and too constant in Purgatory for her to really distinguish if there was a wound or not that they should be worrying about. Stiles was pale, but they all were. After Meg's question toward the teen, however, she was going to watch him more closely, just in case.

 

“I'll take first watch,” he stated after they'd settled down and built a small fire. Neither one protested, and both girls took the chance to rest for a few hours. Stiles sat there, toying with the blade that he had with him, the one that Dean had given him ages ago, while keeping an eye on the world around them, making sure that no one was going to try to sneak up on them in the dark.

 

The teen waited until he was sure both Meg and Laura were asleep before he slowly lifted up his shirt on the left side to see where there was a large cut along his side. It went fairly deep and Stiles had a make-shift bandage on it, but even that had blood on it. He needed to change the bandage without alerting either of the two females. They did not need to know how bad it was. Stiles was fairly sure that it was starting to get infected; but, they could not really care for it there besides rinsing it with water. Stiles would be fine. He had to be.

 

Meanwhile, somewhere in the distance, Derek, Dean, Cas, and Sam all appeared in an odd gust of wind. They were outside of Laura’s range of senses, and much too far for Derek to find either of them, not that he even began to consider the fact that some of his family may be there. “Should we split up?” Sam questioned, looking around the dense, dark woods around them.

 

“No,” replied Dean, shifting the bag on his shoulder while looking around as well. “We'll fan out but stay going in the same direction. “We're more likely to find something that way. Ca--” Dean broke off with a sigh when he turned to see that Castiel was already gone. “Wolf-boy, keep your senses up.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes, but bit back any want to response as they started walking. Sam moved to walk to Dean's right, and Derek to his left. They all walked in the same general direction, toward where the other three were keeping their camp. “Stiles,” Laura said softly with a yawn as she got up, “get sleep.” She stretched a little, placing her hands on the small of her back while arching it a little to try to get it to pop.

 

“Yeah, okay,” replied Stiles with a soft sigh as he nodded. He then shifted around enough to lay on his side, folding his arm underneath his head to use as a pillow. It was as he was lying there that Laura realized just _how_ pale the teen really was. There were incredibly dark circles under his eyes and he had lost a lot of weight.

 

Laura had not even known him all that long and it worried her. She was sure that her brother would be ten times more worried. She idly rubbed her forearms, looking off toward the west, unknowingly toward where her brother was. She was sure that he would be coming for Stiles; the only question was if he would be there in time. Laura frowned a little as she looked over to the teen. “Please, get here in time,” she mumbled to herself, sighing softly.

 

“He's getting worse,” Meg said after a moment, making Laura jump before looking over to where the demon was lying. Laura’s brow rose and Meg nodded over to where Stiles was sleeping, his brow furrowed. “How long has he been hurt?”

 

“I don't know,” Laura answered honestly with a shake of her head, wetting her lips absentmindedly. “Things are... crazy here and I can't... I couldn't keep up with everything.”

 

Meg lifted her shoulders in a shrug, turning to sit up while watching the werewolf pace their camp. “You're not his babysitter. He's a Winchester, he'll pull through. They always do, the little shits.”

 

Laura chuckled a little, shaking her head before smirking a little. “Y'know, for a demon, you're not so bad,” Laura stated, “and if the Winchesters like you...”

 

The demon laughed with a smirk of her own. “I've proved useful, anyway.”

 

Their smirks faded from their faces and both women found their attention drawn over to where Stiles was when the teen started coughing in his sleep. Meg's brow furrowed and she frowned a little as she watched Stiles before she looked up at Laura. He could not fake it in his sleep, and neither one of them were sure what to do. Medication was not a thing in Purgatory, and if Stiles got sick it put them all in danger.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Stiles, wake up,” Meg said, shaking his arm to wake him up around dawn. Stiles simply groaned a little and turned over, but he didn't wake up. “Stiles!” The demon looked over to Laura, who steadied her stance, watching the horizon to the left. There were vampires and a few werewolves coming. “He's not waking up; he's breathing, but...”

 

“We've got company,” stated Laura in response, glancing over her shoulder to where Meg was crouched down next to Stiles.

 

“Friendlies?”

 

Laura laughed at that, her brow rising with an amused smirk. “My, what optimism you have.”

 

Meg rolled her eyes and attempted to wake Stiles one more time. “I'm kicking your ass when we get you home,” she grumbled before standing and tugging her blade out of the top of her boot, standing next to Laura. “How many?”

 

“Several. They might not all make it to us, turning on one another the entire way.” Laura was watching the world in front of them so intently that she did not realize others were behind them until a twig snapped and she spun quickly to face the others with a flash of yellow eyes and a low growl. A shot rang out before Laura could spring to action and she froze, her face displaying complete shock before she realized what happened. The beta looked toward her shoulder where a through-and-through bullet wound was slowly starting to heal. “You shot me, you asshole!”

 

“Laura?” Derek asked from somewhere off to her right before he came rushing over to the camp site. He glared over at Dean, who seemed completely unapologetic for his actions.

 

“Silver doesn't do shit to me, hunter.” Laura narrowed her eyes at Dean before gesturing to Stiles. “I believe you're looking for him.” As much as she would enjoy a family reunion with Derek, they did not have the time. “Focus, Derek. We've got company nearly on top of us.”

 

“Meg?” questioned Sam as he came jogging up from where he had been walking, surprised to see the familiar face in the bunch. His heart dropped when he spotted his nephew lying there, and he knew Derek’s focus was on the same thing.

 

“Hey, there, moose-boy. We'll get him outta here, just focus on our enemies first,” she replied, nodding a little before turning to where she could see the werewolves charging through the trees. “Where'd the vamps go?”

 

“Trees.” Laura’s gaze was on the vampires using the trees as a way to travel. It was terrifying, seeing them leap from one to the next; but, that would not stop her from taking them all out. Stiles groaned somewhere behind her, but his heart rate remained the same. Laura let out a heavy breath and steadied her stance even more. The battle was only about to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the graphic to go with this chapter: [here](http://all-the-sick-things.tumblr.com/post/55490021212/rebel-love-song-by-sourwulfur-chapter-9-it)


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